A Stranger on the Frontier
by keiranhalcyon2010
Summary: Keiran Swan was going to die, but rescued from death's clutches by our favorite single letter ROB. Now in another universe, burdened with the knowledge of what's to come, he must walk a tight rope of temptation - and truly face the dilemma of a certain famous Vulcan proverb. (SI)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I should be dead. The last thing I saw or felt was my car slamming against another wreck on the highway, then what felt like a donkey kicked me in the back barely moments later and the world vanished. It would only be later that I puzzled out that I had been in a chain accident and that I really wanted to thank that kind farmer for not monitoring the lands next to the highway for fire more thoroughly. The smoke hanging over the highway had been so thick I hadn't seen a thing beyond my windshield; I had had barely a second to comprehend this and the danger, before the accident occurred.

I was, however, clearly not dead. I was now lying propped against the hard alloyed wall of a long corridor of some kind. It was deserted and there was this odd background humming or thrumming sound that I could feel in the air and through the wall against my back. I put all this in the back of my mind by carefully moving my extremities and examining myself for injuries.

Amazingly, I felt fine. I was sure I would at least have a high degree of whiplash, given that I was wearing my safety belt and I had felt my neck and upper back jar from the impact.

I carefully stood, using the wall for support at first, then feeling no balance issues, let go and walked back and forth on the spot. Yeah, no problems there. I was wearing my typical cargo pants and a white shirt with the Linkin Park logo on it, acquired at a recent concert of theirs I had attended. I shoved my hands into my pockets and found my smart phone but no wallet. No signal on the former.

Great.

I turned my attention to my surroundings and its familiarity struck me, but I just couldn't place it. It did have a distinct sci fi vibe. Was I dead? Was this my personal heaven? Purgotary? I had been in a car accident, then oblivion, now I was here.

Not having anything better to do, I did a quick 'eeny meeny miny moe' to determine which direction to go, turned left and just began walking.

There was a slight 'gothic' vibe to the design around me, with the lighting somewhat dark, though the carpeting was nice. I finally passed a door. There was no handle, only a keypad with a truly odd touch screen design – with green and light pink buttons. The language on the display was none I recognized, though simple ergonomics would mean you want the biggest button to be the door control. I tapped the button and satisfying beep sounded before the door opened with a hissing motorized sound.

The room beyond was empty, about the size of your average apartment that could hold a family of three.

Oh and there were large oval rounded windows that looked out into space.

SPACE!

Complete with starfield and...

Then it happened and it finally allowed to place where I was. Through the window far in the distance but still well within visual range it blossomed like an energetic sapphire space flower on fast forward.

The radiating energies and stuff that looked like a well spring of gas that would infinitely flow forth, from which emerged a ship that I could just barely make out.

The Bajoran wormhole really was impressive.

I'm on Deep Space Nine.

I'm on Deep...SPACE frakking NINE.

I pinch myself.

No, wormhole still there, which flashed closed in a near instant.

Oh, why am I suddenly looking at the ceiling?

Then I think nothing as unthinking oblivion claims me.

* * *

I couldn't believe I fain... passed out in an entirely manly way. I'm not that kind of person; I'm a firm B-type personality, easy going, and it takes a lot to get me angry or any kind of emotional extreme. I guess that is when it hit me that I was in the freaking _Star Trek Universe_ (and I'm an ardent sci-fi fan and Trekkie, though I think cosplay and conventions are taking it too far – I watch the movies, series and reruns, play the games, debate stuff online, but that's it).

I wake up to find myself in what seems to be one of the beds in the DS9's Infirmary, it's a bit difficult to make out everything as my glasses seem to be missing and... why in God's Creation would they dress me in those awful blue medical outfits? Did I need surgery? I pat myself down, nothing odd and again I felt perfectly fine, I sat up to scan the area for my glasses.

My search is interrupted when a blurry person enters the ward and as... she gets within range of my shortsighted eyes I see my first alien... a Bajoran female nurse.

"You're awake. Good," she smiled at me and I had to admit that she was rather hot. She opened a Medical Tricorder and waved its wand in my direction. The famous bit of tech had me eyeing the device intently. "I'm just giving you a routine scan."

It was decidedly not just the blinking flashing prop from the show fixed on a single screen. The small screen was fully animated and flashing between imagery of my innards that made an MRI look crude and spitting out medical analyses in Bajoran text, which I obviously couldn't read. The interface on the flap and sides of the screen was touch sensitive and contextual. Cool. Though as I saw her work, with the thing I couldn't help but feel it was a rather clumsy OS in comparison to my AndroidOS smartphone.

"Is there a reason for this?" I pulled at the medical gown for effect.

"Standard procedure for a full physical and you are in medical isolation due to your lack of certain common immunities. We are waiting for your informed consent before we give you an immunization regimen."

"Consider it given," I said quickly, not wanting to get space flu or some other exotic bug.

"I shall inform Doctor Bashir," she smiled again, "Please don't try to leave the bed as there is a medical grade isolation field surrounding it."

Naturally I couldn't resist testing this and wasn't disappointed when my finger encountered a bluish force field that flared into visibility at the edge of the bed. Cool. The field even seemed somewhat malleable, I could probably step through it with enough effort, so it wasn't imprisoning me, but it was filtering air and keeping bugs out. The nurse left the ward but I paid her little mind.

I stopped playing with the force field when a male figure entered and when he came close enough to be in clear view...

This was Julian Bashir all right, and judging from his blue shouldered uniform, I was in the early seasons of DS9. I'd need more to nail it down exactly, but I was both inwardly relieved and horrified. I was at the focal point and nexus at which the fate of the galaxy was going to be decided, the looming spectre of the Dominion War and the hundreds of millions deaths that would come about. Honestly, what deluded ROB (though I know all too well who it is, and no, I'm not going to even _think_ his name) thought it would be a good idea to put me here. I couldn't drown in my own despair as Doctor Bashir started speaking...

"Hello Keiran, my name is Doctor Bashir. I've been treating you ever since you were brought in by Security."

"Er hi," I said as a sense of unreality washed over me like an ocean wave. "Security?"

"Yes, they found you unconscious in the quarters that were going to be assigned to a visiting Vedek from Bajor."

I blinked as I struggled to decide how to react. Should I appear knowledgeable or clueless or maybe enigmatic... from a certain point of view I was a Time Traveler or to be more accurate a Dimensional traveller. I sure as hell didn't live through any Eugenics War, and my car accident had occurred in December 2012.

"I hope I'm not in any trouble?"

"None, as far as I'm aware, though Constable Odo is rather perturbed that you somehow eluded his security sweeps."

"Then assure the good Constable that I have no intention of a repeat performance."

"I'm sure he'd be pleased to hear that," Bashir smiled. He walked over to a high tech cart of sorts that he wheeled over and began pushing buttons on its integral touchscreens. He pulled out a hypospray and slotted it into a port. The cart beeped and he pulled the hypo away. "All right, this is the broad spectrum immune booster."

I nodded at him and the field parted open slits to allow his arms passage to my neck. There was a cold sensation then a brief ticklish tingling that went with the hiss of the hypo doing its job.

"There we go. It'll take a day or so before you can be released from isolation. Now I couldn't help but notice your short-sightedness. Not a very common thing at your age to still have."

I knew that vision problems were still around in Kirk's time, as he was allergic to Retinax – which was some form of treatment for the eyes which corrected the problem.

"Anything you can do on that front will be very appreciated," I said emphatically. I had been wearing glasses and contacts alternately since I was in Grade 5, to be rid of both would be a blessing.

"A simple course of Retinax Six is all it will take." He went back to the high tech cart and not a minute later the Retinax was in my body. "Based on the factor of correction that will be needed you need to return for four more treatments spaced a week apart. In the meantime I can replicate contacts for you to wear."

The replicator was not in the ward itself so Bashir left and when he came back it was with a small case containing a pair of contacts. I was a bit out of practice putting them in but it came back to me and I was rewarded with perfect vision of the infirmary around me. I marvelled at the lenses, I didn't feel them at all on my eyes.

Bashir now looked somewhat more serious, "Now I have to tell you that there are some questions that both Constable Odo and Commander Sisko, the senior officer in charge of this station, have for you."

"Yeah, yeah, they can ask away, speaking of which, how did you know my name?"

"It was written on the label of the shirt you were wearing."

I nodded in acceptance, of course Mr Secret _Superior_ Intellect would spot that. Both Sisko and Odo wouldn't be able to see me for another few hours, so I requested some reading from Bashir. I got a PADD about the size of Tablet from my time, like the Tricorder, it was far from the static prop of the show – it had direct wireless access to the public Federation database and interstellar network. Bashir had to help me with the GUI quite a few times, again it felt very clumsy and there was no finger pattern recognition such as two fingers splitting across the screen letting you zoom in. It also let me determine the exact date – June 6th, 2369, or Stardate 46428.87 And it was just a month after the discovery of the Bajoran Wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant.

The first thing I accessed was the history timelines and books, with preference to Oxford and Cambridge as sources. I knew I was probably waving a massive red flag to anyone keeping a digital eye on me, but it was important to know when I was exactly in reference to important events because of the Butterfly Effect.

My specific focus was on the past sixty to eighty years – essentially the time before 'TNG' and after the signing of the Khitomer Accords. It was the period of time where the Federation entered a great expansion phase and finally 'settled' into the massive juggernaut polity we saw in TNG and DS9.

It was rapidly evident that I'd need a lot more time than just a few hours to study the topic, but I did get the bare bones at least. I also inquired into the similarly ill explored Earth Romulan War of 2155 to 2161, as it essentially was the crucible that gave birth to the Federation.

I was barely halfway through the generally accepted causes of that War when my reading was interrupted when I got visitors.

Commander Benjamin Lafayette Sisko and Constable Odo I expected, but I was surprised to see Lieutenant Jadzia Dax, and Ops Chief Miles O'Brien also enter. Of course, my brain instantly turned to mush in the presence of the decidedly beautiful and hot Jadzia – it was one thing seeing her on the small screen, totally another in person. Of course, this was not the time and place to be drooling, and the commanding presence of Sisko steered my mind back on track.

"I am Commander Benjamin Sisko, Commanding Officer of Deep Space Nine..." he went on to do introductions for everyone, that I won't bother repeating. "And for the record you are?"

"Keiran Swan, pleasure to meet you," I replied carefully.

"Understand that you aren't being accused of a crime but there are some questions that must be addressed to my satisfaction before we let you go."

I was rather surprised at that. They were letting me go?

"Why are you letting me go? You've clearly scanned me to determine how I got on your station undetected. Those scans would've revealed anomalies, which would lead to further scans... such as the most basic quantum dating scan on my atomic structure, not to mention its resonance relative to the rest of the universe. This would reveal that I am not only 'old' but also not really from this Universe."

I enjoyed their similarly surprised faces before Sisko shook his head, "We don't confine people just because they're from another universe Mr Swan."

Given the mirror universe shenanigans that would ensue in the future that was a policy that would change.

"Phew," I sighed in relief. "Then I should also inform you that I have no idea _how_ I got here. I certainly did not set out to cross universes when I woke up this morning."

"Can you tell us what you were doing before you woke up on the station?" Dax piped up, her eyes looked plainly fascinated.

"Driving a land vehicle on an Earth that is very different than the one you have or had," I pointed at the PADD about in reference. It hit me then that while I was in a universe that I had dreamed about and was fascinated with, I was essentially the ultimate stranger. I would never see my parents, family or extended family again. It was a metaphorical blow to my heart as hard as the car accident. It was only with effort that I swallowed the extreme desolation I felt. I would probably break down later in private but not now. "There was an accident, I was hit twice and I blacked out... I thought I had died, and then I woke up here."

"Nothing odd happened before that?" O'Brian asked gruffly.

"Nothing I would term as such that would give rise to me suddenly appearing in another universe, Mr O'Brian."

"Chief," Sisko prompted. Ö'Brian stepped forward and placed my smart phone next to the table. "It was the only technology we could find on you so we had to have it analyzed."

"It's primitive compared to your stuff, no doubt."

"That may be, but the operating system and user interface is the most intuitive I've ever seen for something that isn't voice controlled."

The bells of opportunity were ringing in my head but I put it aside to focus on immediate matters. "Commander Sisko, I find myself in need of a new home. Any official options you can arrange for me would be very appreciated."

Sisko nodded his bearing sympathetic, "I'll see what I can do."

"My own preference would be to somehow remain on this station, I have a feeling that wormhole out there has, if not the means to get me home, at least will give me some answers."

"Don't get your hopes up, Mr Swan, the Prophets or 'wormhole aliens' are extremely vague..." and that's when Sisko spaced out. Ah, that's not good, speak of the devils... the Prophets were speaking to him.

His crew was quick to notice and it wasn't moments later that Bashir was there running a medical tricorder over him. "What the hell?" the Doctor exclaimed at the readings.

Sisko blinked and intelligence returned to his features. He focused on me with intensity. "I...the Prophets spoke to me... they implied that you're needed here...they told me to say to you, 'Prepare for the swarm, much that would be otherwise lost can be preserved.'"

Ah shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I don't know what Sisko did to arrange my immediate future during the rest of my medical isolation but by the time I was out and dressed in a truly horrid outfit that Bashir lent me, (a brightly coloured suit top with dark pants which I was throwing in the replicator as soon as I could get my butt over to Garak's shop) he was there with a large PADD, which he handed to me without comment or any hint.

I looked it over and both my eyebrows shot into my hairline, "The Bajorans are offering me citizenship? Wow."

"Your aptitude test indicated a high skill in economics and administration, not to mention acumen for teaching. There's a lot of building and organization happening and there's a lot of problems and delays. In fact, you can help me a lot as well, since I'm in part responsible for coordination of aid delivery from the Federation." I nodded at that, my Mastery in Economics and Business Admin was dated 2007, I would have to really rethink a lot of economic principles with things like a Replicator and asteroid mining in the picture. "The Prophets speaking of you also helped a lot."

"And the request coming from the Emissary helped, I don't doubt." I scrolled down from the citizenship forms. "What of the Federation?"

"You could get citizenship if you claim it, though it's much harder to keep you here then. I'd expect the Daystrom Institute will help in expediting that, since you'll be..." Sisko trailed off.

"A living subject of historical study," I nodded in understanding. "No thanks, there's a lot to be done, more important big picture things than just little old me. I'd become too comfortable on that paradise of an Earth. If the Institute's really that interested they'd schedule an interview and come here."

"Big Picture?" Sisko inquired.

I couldn't help but give an enigmatic smile, finding the right spot on the Bajoran citizenship e-form and jabbed my thumb at the appropriate spot. Just like that my DNA signature was on it and it was already in the queue for delivery via subspace data stream to Bajor. "That wormhole leads into the Gamma _Quadrant_, a whole new vista of the galaxy for exploration, wonders and opportunities beyond imagination and," I turned my voice grave and dark, "inevitably _terrors_ that will freeze your soul. If a hostile alien ship or God forbid, fleet of ships, was to come through that wormhole, what defences does this station have? Four Yellowstone Class Runabouts with relatively paperthin shields, Phasers and Shuttle Class Photon Torpedoes. What will Bajor do to defend itself?"

"Stationing a Federation starship here on a permanent basis is something I inquired about," Sisko sighed. "But it was ruled that it would be too provocative a gesture, in light of the Treaty with the Cardassians."

I had to resist the urge to do a facepalm. "In any event, thank you for organizing this."

"You're welcome, you'll also note on the PADD that I've arranged for your 'education update'."

I pressed the button to scroll further down. It was my enrolment and contract as a part-time Teaching Assistant in Keiko O'Brien's school. "Now that's an interesting idea."

"You can help teach quite a few subjects; Literature, History and so forth. My dad always said the best way to learn something was to study then teach it."

"I'll definitely need a Math refresher, my Calculus wasn't the best and the stuff I learned in Econometrics at University, not really relevant now but can be adapted. Oh, and I definitely want to begin learning Tech or Engineering..."

Sisko chuckled, "One step at a time, Mr Swan."

* * *

The walk through the bustling din of the Promenade of DS9 was another moment of sheer surrealism that hit me at warp speed. I had seen this place on the small screen, my character had walked through it countless times in the Startrek Online MMO, but here it was – in living breathing reality. The Bajoran Temple Shrine, the Replimat, Quark's Bar, the various bajoran vendors, Constable Odo's office, it was all there and of course, my destination – Garak's Tailoring and Clothing shop.

I was barely a few feet through the door and looking at actual tholian silk material when Garak intercepted me, wearing his perpetually bright smile on his cardassian features. His eyes were the clue though, given what I knew about him, I could see the cunning and ruthless soul in them.

"Welcome to my humble shop, dear customer. I can see you are in dire need of my services."

"Don't I know it," I grumbled, "This is borrowed from Dr Bashir."

Garak affected a sympathetic air, "I have not known the good Doctor long enough, but if this comes from his wardrobe I shall have to bug him some more about becoming a patron at my shop."

"I need a whole new wardrobe."

"Splendid," Garak clapped his hands together eagerly and pulled out a scanner wand and started waving it about me. "One point seven nine meters tall, lean build, yes I can work with this..."

"I wear blue, white, black or khaki, nothing pastel or too bright. I want shirts and pants separate, none of those bodysuit things, and the pants must have pockets on my outer thighs that I can shove my hands into. There are some pants that even have pockets on the lower legs. I have some rough sketches." I pulled out the large PADD I seemed to have been 'given' or assigned or inherited.

"Interesting," Garak said in a drawn out manner. "Rather anachronistic, but doable."

"I'd also ask you to add current fashion patterns and styles to these; I do have to fit in."

"As opposed to not fitting in normally?"

I wanted to kick myself. Of course Mr former Obsidian Order would pick up on that. "Let's just say that I'm not from around here," I said with a tone of finality. Garak stared at me with those eyes and upturned cardassian brows.

"Well, I think it's going to be interesting having you as a customer Mr..."

I sighed, "Swan."

"Payment?"

"Latinum," I'd been donated some from Jadzia Dax, just a small amount that was enough to get me settled initially with the basics. Just like in the show, she plays that Ferengi boardgame, Tongo and usually beats every ferengi in Quark's bar at it. I was initially hesitant to accept, but she didn't give a shit about the money, and only enjoyed winning.

"By the way, do you have a material known as denim?"

* * *

I sat in the Replimat carefully eating my steak and savouring each bite to test for any hint that it was different from the 'real' thing. This was my first ever meal from the device (not counting hospital food in the infirmary) and it had been an interesting experience just getting my medium steak, yellow spiced rice and salad. The damn computer had kept wanting me to be specific and kept listing more and more options. I had to be helped with the vagaries of the damn thing by the people who were standing in the queue to use it.

I was barely halfway through my meal when a rather vocal conversation at the table behind me drew my attention.

"You're making a terrible mistake."

"Why? The replicators haven't malfunctioned again?" It was Doctor Bashir, I turned around to see him speaking to a bajoran waiter – a bajoran waiter who looked like _John de Lancie_.

"I'm talking about Vash. Stay away from her."

"My God you're an impertinent waiter."

"I'm a friend," declared Q. "I'm giving you friendly advice. She's nothing but trouble."

Doctor Bashir stood and confronted the 'waiter', "Really? Well I don't think it's any of your business who I see. In fact, I'm having dinner with her right now."

Q frowned gravely, "Are you sure you're feeling up to it? You look tired."

"I feel fine."

"No, no, no, you looked tired. Very, very tired." Q yawned visibly and Bashir yawned involuntarily with him. The Doctor's eyes went very droopy.

"Funny I do feel a bit spent," Bashir started walking off, "maybe I should go and lie down for a few minutes."

"Hopefully by yourself for a change," Q muttered.

I walked up behind Q and spoke up, "Are you quite finished Q?"

"Of course not, my dear Keiran, far from it," Q's smile was extremely mischievous as he turned around to face me.

I frowned folding my arms, "So should I be thanking you for my current situation?"

Q flashed and he was wearing a Starfleet Captain's uniform and looked human again, "You're quite welcome. Such an ordinary death you were likely headed for, but you Spacebattlers... you're such a boundless fountain of amusement. Did you know I have an entire mini-universe I created where I make all the scenarios, inventions, weapons and so on you guys dream up actually happen? Countless hours of fun... think of it as my form of TV."

I was rather gobsmacked at that, thinking of all the crap, awesomeness and sheer death and destruction the ideas that the Spacebattles forum dreamt up, given life and form.

"I'm glad we could get rid of the monotony of the Continuum for you," I said after I gathered my wits. "But why me?"

"Let's just say I saw an opportunity to add a little spice to the equation, you are one of the more shall we say moderate members, not too extreme and rather unlikely to upturn the applecart completely, but just enough for my purposes."

I thought about that for a moment, "No chance of going home?"

"Do you _really_ want to?" Q smirked.

I thought about it and... "No, I'll miss the family, but this opportunity... for which I thank you, is just too big. I'll just start my own family here if it comes down to it."

"See? I just love it when I'm right."

I thought at this point of the embryonic lifeform in the crystal Vash had brought back from the Gamma Quadrant, "Should I..."

"This little dilemma resolves itself well enough, there's no need."

"See ya round the cosmos then, Q," I idly waved at him and returned to finish my lunch.

* * *

My assigned quarters in the Habitat Ring was on level eight, subsection C. It was about thirty five square meters of space with only a single window that looked out into space. The place had the barest of furnishings and I'd definitely see about adding to colour and personal touches. I went over to the bedroom and tested the cardassian mattress. Krikey, and I thought Chinese beds were hard, I might as well sleep on the floor.

I had my entirely manly bout of tears at the loss of never seeing family again – not sure how long that took but when I was cried out I stood up from the bundle of misery I had become to sort out my quarters.

I headed off to my replicator in the main living room and after a bit of experimentation found... well what do you know it worked on Energy Credits (EC), of which I had about fifteen thousand. Consulting my PADD, I referenced the DS9 rules and regulations; I was issued a three thousand EC stipend every month, since I was a single person living alone, a family would get more. I pondered the EC and if that energy came from the station's fusion reactors, which were giant gravitic straight deuterium reactors which distributed energy highly efficiently with EPS – then all you needed was a ramscoop ship that would go out harvest deuterium from space, an ocean or from an asteroid source. That was why energy was the currency in the future, and it was rationed out in a near socialist/communist style. I wonder if I went out and got extra deuterium or damn near any matter to salvage that I could have it converted to EC and then become 'rich', just like I could do in the STO MMO, though my character had a ship capable of industrial scale replication.

Looking at the EC cost of replicating something, the meal I had ordered had had a fifteen EC cost. Meaning I would never have to really watch my food budget. I had a pretty good diet, given that I had allergies that acted as rather convenient weight watchers – gluten, wheat and lactose were no-go for me, so that ruled out almost every fattening food that existed. I wasn't fat by a long shot and pretty toned, but strong and fit I wasn't. I'd have to also step up my own exercise routine to prepare for what was coming – though the tech would go the final distance, it was always a good idea to be fit as a fiddle. It was the most basic of tasks of any soldier and DS9 would be a front line for a quite a few battles to come.

I dragged my thoughts back to the present and tapped a button on the replicator, "Computer, reference the Federation database, subject; camping, item; air mattress."

"Confirmed," droned the Cardassian computer in that flat cardassian voice. I so preferred Majel Roddenberry's voice that was in use for all Starfleet computers. "There are two major types with twelve colour varieties."

"The double bed version in a black colour."

"Confirmed."

"Replicate it for me, please."

"Confirmed, note that this item will be made in a deflated state as it is too large..."

"Yes, yes, I understand, go ahead."

The replicator lit up and a low humming drone was heard, twinkles and motes of light appeared and rapidly multiplied until it was forming a solid shape of light which faded and revealed the very solid rolled up air mattress. I pulled it out and put it down.

"Computer, same subject, a reversible hand held air pump that will fit in the valve of the air mattress. Integrate a rechargeable power source, with the current state of the art batteries."

"Confirmed."

Another flash of twinkling light and I was pulling out a black pump about a foot in length. I flicked the tiny switch and was delighted at the loud humming of the fan working and pushing air out of the adapter pipe in the front.

I took a look at the replicator and found that had set me back about fifty EC.

"Cool."

3D Printing had been in its infancy at home, but the future economic implications of it were extreme. The Star Trek replicator was the ultimate goal of that line of tech, me a layman had with a replicator and a computer built something that would've taken two factories of people to do back home.

In this manner, in less an hour I had furnished my apartment into a nice living space I would enjoy and wouldn't mind showing off, sure it had set me back under two thousand EC but it was worth it to change the grim cardassian interior architecture. I had Chinese painting scrolls hanging on the walls are regular intervals, curtains, and soft cushions on the hard couch. A large varnished wooden work table with ergonomic highbacked office chair that I had had to replicate in pieces and assemble myself.

I had also replicated an extra large PADD, about the size of a twenty inch screen and mounted it on the wall facing the couch. There was all my data display and entertainment needs sorted.

For my worktable I replicated smaller PADDs and began downloading all the knowledge, books and curriculums I could find regarding various subjects, but mostly engineering and science. I picked the simplest book on astrophysics I could find and began to settle down reading.

"_Sisko to Keiran."_

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sudden voice intruding into my personal space, before I realized it was the comm. System.

"Keiran here."

"_Please report to my office in Ops. I assume you can find your way here."_

"I can, Commander."

"_Good, be aware that the turbolift will grant you access to Ops this once. If you want to speak to me during duty hours please call ahead._"

"Will do."

I had changed into clothes I had temporarily replicated until Garak got done with my 'real' wardrobe. I couldn't resist a bit of trolling at this point and was wearing a black shirt with the word 'Trekkie' emblazoned on my chest, khaki cargo pants, and some Nike sneakers. No one in this universe except Q would understand the reference at all. Each pocket had a small PADD with my reading material downloaded and I also wore a combadge on my chest shaped in the fleet patch of the ST Online MMO Spacebattles Fleet – a punching fist from the front surrounded with the outer rings of a crosshair.

The turbolift took a forty second journey to reach ops from my level in the habitat ring. It rose up from the floor of Ops just like in the show and I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked through Ops towards Sisko's raised office. I saw Major Kira Nerys for the first time at her station in the central control table, dressed in the iconic bajoran militia uniform in maroon. She was a mirror for the actress Nana Visitor.

"Good to meet you Major," I bowed my head slightly in greeting. "I want to thank you and please convey my thanks for giving me an official home to the Provisional Government."

She was surprised at first at the bluntness but recovered quickly, "You're welcome."

I nodded with a smile and walked up the brief flight of steps and the doors of Sisko's office parted. It was all here, the overall curbed design of the room, the curved dark glassy desk with integral touchsceens, the infamous baseball as well mounted on its little stand, the Deadalus model ship mounted on a counter. Sisko was staring into a PADD and looked up at my approach.

"Welcome to my office, Mr Swan. Are you settling in all right so far?"

"Yes thank you. I've come to an understanding with the station replicators and computer. So how can I help?"

"What can you tell me about Q?"

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Odd, one would think that an omnipotent entity could keep a conversation private if he wanted to. Who overheard us?"

"Mr O'Brien was on his way past the Replimat and recognized Q from his visits to the USS Enterprise, where he was stationed before this."

I nodded in understanding, "Well I can tell you a bit about Q, as much as anyone can comprehend of a Type 5."

"Type 5? Are you talking about the Kardashev scale?"

I grinned in apology, "Sorry, I guess you don't have the amended scale. Kardashev Type 5 civilization, has transcended their universe of origin and capable of universe-level manipulation of individual discrete universes from an external frame of reference. In any case, Q, yes, he and I talked and yes it seems he is responsible for my presence in this universe. Q is quite generally known in my home universe, he has... influence there."

"The reason I ask is that there is a massive graviton buildup and the station's power has fluctuated wildly on two occasions."

I sighed, "It's not Q, when he jokes around he wants you to know it's him. Remote graviton surges are not his style."

Sisko nodded, "I'll take that under consideration."

"Can't your sensors find the cause of this?"

"No, given that our sensors are cardassian design, not really known for versatility or precision."

"Then turn to your own minds for the answer, find the first occurrence of the event, then the second and find commonalities. Do not rule anything out, no matter how innocent, ordinary or small it may look. If that is all, Commander?"

Sisko nodded and I saw myself out of the office.

Thirteen hours later and after catching a nap I made sure to stand in the back of Quark's auction and watched with amusement as Q kept raising the price offer for the embryonic lifeform egg. Quark's reaction to Q betting a million bars of latinum was a picture I preserved for eternity by taking a snapshot from my smartphone. I also took pictures of Sisko and Dax rushing in to beam the egg out.

I hurried up to the upper level of the promenade and also took pics of the space creature being born and as it flew off into the wormhole.

Now there was a Kodak moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

There are many teachers who would tell you there is nothing more satisfying than seeing a student master skills and knowledge you impart to them. It is something that will last beyond any figure of numbers in a bank account, its leaving a legacy of yourself into the future. That is what holds most teachers to their profession, since they know that if they throw in the towel, well, there goes civilization. It sustained you to weather the foibles and irrationality of young children. All I knew was that there was a reason I preferred teaching High School and Varsity – then you were dealing with young adults, who had the intelligence and abstract reasoning to know that if you didn't shape up, you'll be consigned to the ranks of burger flippers, trashmen and unskilled labour in general.

In this universe, that was an entirely different story. In the Federation, there was no poor, you could quite literally just live off your EC stipend. (For the most part, there were member worlds where this was not the case) You only got more by being useful or engaging in a profession. There was no need for it to be a profitable one either. Your desire for improvement was intrinsically motivated, I call bullshit, it was a cultural extrinsic imperative. You would be the 'shame' of the family if you were such a freeloader, and looked down upon by Fed society in general. As an economist, I rather sympathized with that feeling.

In any event, of the children before me, it was really only the bajorans who I instantly recognized would be the attentive even eager students – they sat upright in their desks, their little eyes glued to my every move, with fingers poised on PADDs. In contrast, the humans, bolians and single ferengi would be the ones that were going to test my patience. I really wish that I had a rod ready in my hand, but corporal punishment went the way of the dodo around the same time in this universe as it had done in my own and for the same reasons.

'Enlightened' edenisitc idiots! Children only developed the brain capacity for intrinsic motivation at thirteen years old or later, it usually came with abstract thought. They had no concept of actions now having consequences for themselves and others later in life. Before that they only want, want, want, do, do, do, and only negative pavlovian reinforcement can get it into their little heads that this is 'bad'. How did a child learn not to touch a stove... by getting burned. In this respect, I almost wanted to board the first ship bound for the Klingon Empire, at least there they didn't 'spare the rod'.

I adorned what best could be described as my 'Professor Snape' hat and began almost stalking through the five rows of desk, angling myself to the side that held the most Feddies. My eyes were shooting phaser bolts and my dress was even a professional grey suit cut in 24th Century style (without a tie, thank God those things also vanished from fashion). They instantly shut up. I glanced to where Mrs O'Brien or Keiko sat at the back of the glass. She insisted I call her Keiko. "Mrs O'Brien is Miles' mother, not me."

Her eyes looked approving but her expression was classically neutral. She readily admitted to me that she was not formally trained as a teacher, unlike myself, who had a PostGrad in Education, and that she was the one who should've been the TA. But since the mirror of my University in this universe had ceased to exist after the Eugenics Wars, the records lost, my own mirror counterpart's degree did not exist. I only had my ap scores to back me on paper. My merit in performance would be the deciding factor, and Keiko was also in the same boat.

"Now that I have your attention," I said dryly. "My name is Mr Swan, a name you will always address me by. Failure to do so and your life will be more difficult. Disobey any of the class rules and your life will be even more difficult. Disrupt the learning process and you will be very sorry indeed." I stopped next to Jake Sisko and Nog's desks. "You will be assigned extra work to do, a lot of extra work. Fail to do it and you will not be allowed through those doors until you present it to me or Mrs O'Brien. That means you will fall behind, you will lack knowledge that your peers already have, they will be _better_ than you. I will make notes of your behaviour into your Learner Profile, which will follow you around for the _rest of your life_.

"It's simple, do as I do and ask, work hard, respect your peers and elders, listen, and you will enjoy the classes Mrs O'Brien and I give you. So when you write the Interstellar General Education Exam, you will find it easy and even fun!" The IGEX was the Federation Primary Education for its young children. "I want you all to leave here and be able to go on and follow your dreams. That will not happen to lazy undisciplined naughty brats. It is very, very rare for your ambitions to land in your laps, most of us have to go out and work for it."

"Now, I will start the lesson, when I ask a question, you will raise your hand, stand, state me your name and then answer." I walked over to the large wall screen, faced the class and tapped on the small PADD in my hand. The wallscreen blossomed with the image of an andorian male. The media and database access available was already a massive step up from what I had been used to. Sure I had access to the Internet, but not in the class and only overhead projection. I already had had the idea that I wanted to line the whole class with holo-projectors, which I would bounce off of Chief O'Brien later. "Who can tell me who this is?" One of the bolian children's hands shot up. "Yes?"

"My name is Zipak, Mr Swan."

"On your feet Zipak."

The young boy stood nervously.

"Who is this?"

"I think, Shran of Andoria."

"Well done, excellent. You may sit. What is he famous for?"

* * *

I was in the Replimat, sitting at my own table and tasting my first raktajino. The best I could describe it as was an espresso on steroids with an exotic flaring aftertaste. It didn't have caffeine, but the klingon equivalent that had a name I couldn't pronounce. Oh, there was another thing to do, learn klingon...

"Is this seat taken?" I looked up to see Commander Sisko with a raktajino of his own

"Not at all."

Sisko sat down and took a sip, "How has the first week of teaching been?"

"Quite well, but it always goes well in the beginning, the question now comes, can it stay that way for the rest of the year."

Sisko laughed, "If I had any doubts you were an experienced teacher, you've just dispelled them. Cuzon Dax had a similar viewpoint and I've never seen Jake sit so still for so long. You're really piling them with work."

"Idle hands..." I shrugged. "Out of interest, what did Jake really think of the fact that I was from another universe..."

"He was baffled at first, but then he thought about it and then it was 'wizard'." That was roughly the current version of 'cool'.

"Oh, I was going to see you about this later today, but I finished reviewing the economic and infrastructure data of Bajor and the system at large." I reached into a pocket of my suit and handed a PADD over. "Preliminary findings, adjusting the econometrics I know to be relevant is going to take longer for a full report. In fact, it might as well be a Doctoral thesis, at least a year before I can put hard facts on the table, but I can tell you right now that there needs to be a paradigm shift."

Sisko read through the PADD carefully. I tried to use as much 'layman' English as possible, but there were some jargon that I had to take the time to explain in the report. It took him almost twenty minutes and he had already downed another raktijino. He sighed and put the PADD down. "This doesn't make for easy reading."

"No, and the current program of future aid shipments make it worse."

"Worse?"

"The only time such shipments are advisable would've been during the Occupation. The instant that the first harvests are complete, the Federation has to change the nature of the shipments."

Sisko frowned, "To what?"

"The bajora... sorry, if _we_, are ever to become proper contributing member of the Federation, that can look at ourselves in the mirror with pride, we have to become a modern, industrialized star system that can defend itself from any predation. The shipments must then be an upscaled and amended full colonization package; including Industrial Energy Cells, Industrial Replicators and Weather Control Systems."

"No Planetary Defense Systems?"

"The cardassians will see it as weapon shipments no matter how 'defensive' it is. There is no peace treaty between Bajor and Cardassia, after all. So let's not poke the serpent with a stick."

I did not dare speak of what I could dream up in terms of weapons with access to an Industrial Replicator. I was planning on bouncing ideas off Major Kira in a secure location later, hopefully she could also bring in any sort of Bajoran engineer she could trust to keep me grounded in the realm of the possible or practical.

* * *

One of the first things I did when I had some spare time (between teaching, studying and economic work for Bajor) was replicate a pen and pieces of paper. I sat down on my desk and writing in my own personal shorthand began to recall coming events as best as I was able, no matter how small or insignificant and the theories behind who, what and why – I constructed a timeline in the vein of 'Crewman Daniels' Temporal Observatory. Of course, it took me more than one A4 page and there was times when I was drawing complete blanks… I had last watched DS9 rerun through all seven season more than two years ago, then there was the TNG movies to take into account, USS Voyager, then the events leading up to Star Trek Online in 2409 and what events would take place there.

Pretty soon I had one wall of my quarters covered in what to anyone else would be illegible scribbles following a snaking, coiling, wavy line. I then began to identify events I could reasonably influence, and track the resulting consequences.

"Where's a Temporal Agent when you need one?" I mumbled to myself, and then gave my surroundings a beady eyed glare, just in case there was an invisible, out of phase, Agent or Temporal Historian observing me.

Of course, there was still probably a bunch of stuff I was forgetting, but it had been the best I could do. I refreshed everything in memory and then promptly tore it down and then had the replicator recycle the paper and even the pen.

The exercise had allowed me to recall an event that was small but it was perhaps a start…

Of course, I had some preparations to do beforehand, involving a bit of basic electrical engineering I could've done even back in my home universe before I began my studies here. Then making sure to station myself in the Replimat during my free time, after Keiko O'Brien and her husband had gone off to celebrate her mother's hundredth birthday on Earth. My first thought had been to shadow Jadzia Dax, but she was a joined Trill, with hundreds of years of experience thanks to that symbiont, and I was no spy, she would've caught on to me a heartbeat – thinking me a stalker, and Bashir did enough of that to her.

Then the Replimat replicators broke down one evening and… ah ha… this looked familiar.

"It's almost as though the re-filtration processors were waiting for Chief O'Brien to leave before breaking down." Bashir was leaning against the wall next to the open replicator observing Dax poking in its guts with a multiphase adjuster.

"The technology looks like something the cardassians must have taken from the romulans. Is that an RCL type one matrix field?" Jadzia murmured thoughtfully to herself.

"Perhaps we ought to call in a romulan repair service."

"Or an RCL type two?" That's right, ignore the smarmy bastard Dax.

"Another raktijino?" Bashir offered.

"It'll keep me up all night," she politely declined with a smile.

"I can think of better ways of you keeping you up. And they're more fun than drinking coffee." Bashir smirked after his flirtation.

Dax kept an amused look on her face, and her eyes were tolerant as she gracefully ignored it, "Definitely a type one." She made a few adjustments and sealed the replicator which hummed back to life. "I really should be getting to bed."

"May I escort you to your quarters?"

"That's not necessary, Julian."

Bashir was visibly disappointed, "Oh, well, good night then."

Dax left and given that I watching for it and very paranoid I spotted the two alien males following her. I nonchalantly as possible stood and followed, fast walking, with hand in pockets and focused on the two darkly dressed humanoids in suits. One was taller and bulkier than me so I was glad I wasn't planning on a brawl to settle this. The other was the guy that had some sort of grudge against Curzon Dax, I couldn't recall the specifics of why, just that it had something to do with a war that Curzon had mediated in. I wormed and pushed my way through and around anyone in my way and so managed to spot the two turning off into a corridor from the Promenade.

As foot traffic thinned as we got to the habitat ring it also allowed me to spot out of the corner of my eye that I myself had a tail in the form of Bashir.

I was about to turn another corner along a hallway lined with quarters when I heard the confrontation start.

"Dax," said an alien voice.

"Yes?" Jadzia said politely.

"You are Dax." The alien was slightly surprised.

"What do you want?"

Bashir had caught up to me and was curious why I had stopped, but the sounds of Dax's struggle with the aliens had him rushing around the corner to her defence. He tackled the smaller alien, a rather stupid move in close quarters, as he succeeded in freeing one of Dax's arms so she could defend herself, but bumped his head against a bulkhead. The third alien, a female, appeared to close the trap and knock Bashir out, but I promptly fast walked into the brawl drawing the simple device I had fashioned as Dax did a masterful display of martial arts to knock the bigger alien on his ass.

Of course the alien spotted me, and I struck out with my left arm in a basic palm strike at her head which she easily deflected, but it had all been a smoke screen and allowed me to jab the taser into her stomach and press the button. There was a cracking sound and the alien started twitching violently and collapsed bonelessly to the floor. The smaller alien had already recovered from Bashir's tackle and rushed me.

I rushed him in turn and faked a strike, but promptly fell to the floor in a push up position before he could retaliate and I became a sudden speed bump which, with all his momentum he couldn't stop, and bowled his feet right out from under him. I stood up as he was falling, effectively turning his trip, into an uncontrolled somersault. He landed on the hard floor with a bodily thump, all the air whooshing out of his lungs. I struck with the taser again, sending him into unconsciousness.

Then walked over to the last big alien which Dax was keeping immobilized with leverage and superior position. I gestured to the taser and then to the alien, and clever woman she was, let go the instant I was in position. Another zap and it was over.

Dax let out a relieved breath then smiled, "Whew, thanks. Nice taser, haven't seen one since the twenty second century." Of course she would recognize what it was, besides her scientific background; the Dax symbiont had been alive before the hand held _laser _had even been invented.

"Yes, I figured that since I can't go walking around with a phaser on the station, I improvised a bit of old school tech into a non-lethal weapon. DS9 is a waystation to the Gamma Quadrant, and is not at all perfectly 'safe'."

"Quite," Jadzia agreed staring at the aliens with a faraway look in her eyes before picking up her fallen com badge and putting it back on and tapping it. "Dax to Odo."

"_Odo here,_" the gruff voice came.

"I've just been attacked in Corridor 9, Section 3 of the Habitat Ring. There are three unconscious klaestrons for your brig."

"_On my way. Odo out._"

Jadzia looked at me again, "What amperage did you use?"

"I played it safe, and stuck with 0,01, though I can adjust it higher for a hardier foe like a klingon." I switched the taser off and put it in a pocket.

She smirked with twinkles in her eyes, "You're a walking anachronism, Mr Swan."

I laughed, "Please, its Keiran. And is that a compliment?"

"Coming from someone with nearly three hundred years of experience, yes. Did you, like Julian, just happen to be passing by?"

"No," I replied honestly. "I was in the Replimat and spotted the looks this one," I nudged the smaller officiously dressed klaestron with a foot, "was giving to your back. Not at all friendly and very assessing."

There was cough from behind us.

"I helped too, why don't I get a compliment?" Bashir complained.

Jadzia just got that trademark graceful amused smile on her face again as bajoran deputies and Odo arrived to take custody of the klaestrons.

Of course, it didn't end there. The klaestrons had awoken in the brig and promptly presented their warrant for Dax's arrest and extradition for the death of General Alderon Tandro. Curzon Dax had been a mediator for the Klaestron civil war, it stated that he had betrayed the local government to the rebels.

I remained on the sidelines here since I was also so busy covering for Keiko's classes, but I was in the audience during Jadzia extradition hearing in Quark's bar, that Sisko managed to arrange with the technicality that DS9 was Bajoran territory and there was no extradition treaty. Odo did his usual thorough job of an investigator on Klaestron IV itself and so the truth came out.

Curzon Dax had had no alibi because he had been in General Tandro's wife's bed at the time. The widow had come to the station to testify to that fact, and it also came out that it was in fact Alderon Tandro himself who had been the traitor and that he had been used as a rallying martyr for the victorious government troops.

Needless to say the bajoran arbitrator rejected the warrant and sent the klaestrons packing.

* * *

"Computer, access Federation Information Interlink, display names of prominent holoprogrammers."

"Confirmed."

I scanned the list that came up on the 'big screen' in my quarters and found the name I was looking for 'Felix Marquez'. "So that's his surname… Computer, display officially listed addresses."

He was on Earth.

"Computer, open a subspace comlink to Felix Marquez on Earth."

"Stand by, identity confirmed, opening link."

The screen vanished into displaying the Federation emblem with the United Earth logo side by side, with a progress bar and flashing words '_Please wait'_.

"Fuck, loading screens even in the future," I groused.

'_Connected.'_

The screen resolved to show an image of a rather cluttered office festooned with PADDs of every size imaginable. Dominant in the field of view was the upper body of Felix Marquez. His name suggested a Hispanic ancestry, but the guy was like a mix of Caucasian and Asian.

"Yes, can I help?" the man's hair was a crazy black mess, and he looked at me with really bleary blue eyes, dressed in frumpled clothes with a grey robes hanging from his shoulders.

"Mr Marquez, my name is Keiran Swan on Deep Space Nine, sorry to bother you so late, I forgot about the time on Earth at the moment."

Felix waved his hands, "Doesn't matter, sleep is for the dead. Now what can I do for you?"

"I have a number of ideas for holoprograms that I need your services for, and perhaps even a few rather unique ideas I want to run by you."

Felix looked rather bored at first but then perked up when I said the latter. "Unique ideas?"

"How about this… instead of the touchscreen pad or physical interface, display a holographic peripheral in front of the user at a height and angle for proper ergonomics. Active short range sensors keep track of the user's hands as he or she touches the holograph and manipulates it accordingly. The holographic peripheral can provide an appropriate amount of force feedback, making itself intangible and tangible as necessary."

Felix practically had his nose against the visual sensor by this point. "You have my attention…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

I had seen a devastated Bajor only very briefly in the beginning of the DS9 series, but even so the devastation the cardassians had left in their wake had been obvious. Now as I was escorted by Major Kira through the streets of the capital city, the scale of it all slammed into my brain with the force of a nuke. There was a lot of work to be done. The streets were cleared of rubble and debris, but there were still areas scorched earth, dead and dying foliage, the burned-out shells of buildings. Only a few had been spared—all of them rounded, spherical, soft, and graceful, more harmonious with the natural surroundings than the harsher, outrageous angles of cardassian structures.

"Those buildings will need to be demolished. Too damaged to repair."

Kira nodded, "It's scheduled to be done in a few weeks. It's taking a lot of planning since we don't want to damage the surviving buildings."

"Those Industrial Replicators can't come soon enough," I sighed.

Every bajoran I saw in the streets were busy with something related to the rebuilding, it almost reminded me of scenes and photos I had seen of Germans after World War 2, grimly and full of determination picking up the pieces of their ruined cities and lives, and starting over. It was awe inspiring to see it happen here around me.

The Major led me to one of the surviving buildings, a temple or monastery, from the elaborate stone carvings at the entryway. The massive stone structure's interior was dim, shadowed, illuminated only by the sunlight that streamed through the windows. There were bajoran work crews here, patching holes, rebuilding interior walls, artisans restoring artwork and statues. Yet they did so in absolute silence and only speaking in hushed tones, and even more astonishingly there was not a power tool in sight, only traditional hand tools. The reason why became obvious when I felt the aura of serene contemplation, of sanctuary, that permeated the site. You didn't want noisy tools to shatter that atmosphere...

"Mr Swan. Major Kira."

A feminine voice. I turned toward the sound, toward the shadowed form of another bajoran female. The she stepped into the filtered sunlight and I recognized instantly... Kai Opaka, dressed in a bright orange sheath robe. Her presence in this place, combined with a face that shone with an interior radiance, an inner peace and wisdom. It was not something I could convey with words. It felt like as long as I was with her, everything would be fine. Here was... I could only call her the bajoran version of Mandela mixed with the Dalai Lama.

"Your eminence," I greeted, bowing my head. Kira greeted the Kai similarly.

Kai Opaka smiled faintly and stepped closer, she raised a right hand and grabbed Kira by the earlobe, squeezing. Kira tolerated the exploration of her _pagh_ with long practice. Opaka let go and suddenly I found my own right ear squeezed by a surprisingly powerful grip. I gritted my teeth through the pain stoically. Finally, she let go and stepped back, her serene smile never wavering.

"Amazing," Opaka said. "Such an ambitious and clever mind, with a compassionate yet ruthless heart. It is an odd contradiction." I could feel my cheeks heat up at being bared in this fashion. "Yet humble too when you know you are wrong."

"Is that what you see in my _pagh_, eminence?"

Opaka didn't answer. "You have seen Bajor now. What do you think?"

"It's amazing of course, what you have achieved already with what you have on hand. There is a lot of potential. I'm reminded of a people in my home universe that weathered similar circumstances. However, they picked themselves up and with a helping hand they stood again on their own feet and arose as a powerful nation in less than twenty years."

Opaka nodded in understanding. "When the Emissary came to me about you, about your need for a home, I consulted the Orb, seeking to understand what the Prophets told him."

My heart sped up, "And what do you understand, eminence?"

"That I am satisfied," Opaka donned that serene smile again. "The Emissary has his part to play, so do you, a part that extends beyond Bajor, but takes its roots here. Administrator Swan, do what you must, but keep the people first and foremost in your mind and heart."

"Really?" I declared in astonishment, staring at the big Lurian seated in his usual place at Quarks' bar. Morn's small deep set eyes looked upward and his shoulders shifted somewhat. "Amazing, I didn't know that would work on females... thanks Morn. Oh, by the way," I leaned closer to whisper, "There might be a lot of extra business coming your way to and from Bajor soon, so keep those warp coils in tip top shape."

Morn nodded and clapped a friendly hand on my shoulder. I turned in my barstool to face the owner of the 'humble' establishment I was in, as he came walking out of the storeroom behind the counter.

"So the amazing teacher has finally come to grace my establishment with his presence and patronage," Quark declared wryly.

"DABO!" shouted the gamblers in delight at the Dabo wheel in its place of prominence in the centre of Quarks. I swear Quark twitched ever so slightly every time that word was shouted.

I ignored his prod and merely handed over a strip of latinum, which was snatched from my hand as quick as lightning. "For the holosuite reservation. Oh, I did a bit of research, and I was wondering how you are getting along with a ferengi by the name of Gaila?"

Quark looks shifty, "Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, there is a message that I want to pass to him. A business opportunity, a very profitable one, is in my pocket. Figuratively speaking, of course. If you could arrange a meeting at his earliest convenience, I would be most grateful, and he would be too, especially to the ferengi who made it happen." Quark was at this point looking at me like I had grown a second head. I slid over small piece of paper. The ferengi picked it up and opened it. It was written in the ferengi language, which I had painstakingly translated and written out by hand.

Quark read it and his eyes widened. "Oh, oh my." He crumpled the paper and promptly stuffed it into the replicator onto the wall behind him and recycled it.

I smiled at his antics, checking the time. "Make it happen, Quark. I trust the Holosuite is free now?"

"Sure, Holosuite 2," Quark smiled toothily, "go right ahead."

I jumped off the barstool, shouldering a tog bag and headed up the circular staircase into the narrow corridor above the main floor that held the four holosuites DS9 had. I pulled out a small briefcase from the bag that held ten datarods safely in shaped foam. I pulled the one named 'FrtBrg' and inserted it into the appropriate slot.

"Computer, run program."

"Program complete. Enter when ready."

I took a deep fortifying breath and keyed the door open and walked into another world seemingly transplanted onto DS9. The sun was bright overhead, with perfect blue skies and white wisps of cloud. The entrance to the holosuite closed and was promptly disguised as the door to a cylindrical barracks. All around me moved men and some women in digital camouflage circa 2000, the din in air was of troops singing and jogging in synchronization.

"SWAN! What are you doing?!"

My head snapped around to see a dark skinned Marine with three chevrons mounted on three curves...

I snapped to attention. "At the moment, nothing, Sergeant Major."

"Nothing! How can you _do nothing_? It's a contradiction, cadet. Get your ass into formation..." he pointed to a group of cadets that had suddenly appeared on the nearby road – which was missing a member in the front. I was thankfully already in workout clothes, so could just fall in and get busy with the PT.

When an hour was past and the holosuite ended the program when my time was over, I had to give it to Felix, his skill in programming holographic scenarios was masterful. The holo-Sergeant Major had already shattered me. The formation run was easy enough if tiring, but the obstacle course, though navigable broke you down and tested every bit of balance, endurance and strength you possessed.

This was my first workout program – Basic Training at Fort Bragg. I was not doing this because I planned to be in the trenches, but because the trenches might come to me, despite everything I had in the works or in my head to stop it from happening. As I lay on my back on the hard floor of the suite sucking in air in great gasps, I couldn't help but feel as if a mountain the size of Olympus Mons stood before me, and I had to either make it to the top, or else watch everything burn, due to either the Dominion, then the Klingons, the Romulans, the Breen, the Borg, the Undine or Species 8472, and at the summit, stood the demons of mist and shadow.

I stopped in front of a set of doors on the Habitat Ring and composed myself, did a last check that I had the right PADD in my hand. Looked at myself to check I was presentable, I was still wearing my 'professional' clothes as I had just come from giving classes at school. There wasn't even a hint of frumpiness coming from them – laundry was such a mundane thing that I thought it was just never shown on screen – but in the 24th Century, clothes cleaned themselves and warded off bacteria naturally. They never developed folds either. They absorbed your sweat and did something on a molecular level so that you never stank.

Satisfied I tapped the button on the side to ring the door chime.

"Come in."

The doors parted and I was treated to the interior view of Jadzia Dax's quarters. She had also done some redecorating, but much more minimalist and yet there were a few out of place gaudy items, mixed in with some beautiful artwork. I was also treated to the wonderful view of Jadzia in a casual outfit of figure hugging slacks, blouse and bare feet busy doing some rearranging. It allowed me a good view; long-limbed and tall, with a pale, delicate beauty, her honey-brown hair was drawn into a kind of pony tail, revealing a long white neck. She had all the right curves as well, the primitive part of me admitted. From her temples down, she the trail of small, crescent-shaped spots running along her hair line and down her neck that was characteristic of Trill.

"Sorry, I'm still not settled on the layout of my place," she huffed after putting some sort of odd artwork statue figurine on a shelf.

"I can come back later..."

"Nonsense," she waved her hands as if dismissing the notion. She sat down on a couch, folding her legs under her and patted the empty spot next to her. I honestly tried to relax, but now of all times, from nowhere shyness and nervousness swept through me. I coughed and sat down at the place she indicated. "So what do you want me to review that required... privacy?"

I took a deep breath and handed the PADD over, glad to focus my mind on something entirely else. "I need you to check my thinking with regards to the science behind this."

Jadzia nodded and after only a minute – damn she read fast. "The Kits you illustrate here will require miniaturization that doesn't exist yet. The smallest holo-emitter I know of is about thirty centimetres in size. The Replicator can be this small though."

"Okay...but the holo, it doesn't need photo 3d realism, it just needs to project basic 3d shapes and flat screens in mid-air, surely that can cut down on size and complexity."

"It's possible," Jadzia nodded. "However I think the idea you have here for Augmented Reality with organic LED contact lenses interfaced with a cut down Tricorder, and implanting the combadge now that is very feasible."

I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. "It's just I saw how easily those klaestrons just ripped your badge off, and just like that, the computer won't know where you are and you've lost all communication ability. And as for the Tricorder, it's only as big as it is, because the humanoid hand isn't as small as it could be, but if you can control it via voice or the internal computer displaying an interface in the augmented reality, then you don't need physical buttons. Heck, we don't then need the holo at all, you can just put them in the environment around you and control them via AR."

"Though I think you'll find a lot of people won't like the idea that they're traceable day and night and implanting technology..." Jadzia winced. "The Borg..."

"Just because the Borg have taken trans-speciesm to the destructive ends they do, shouldn't stop us from doing the same in a reasonable, peaceful and measured manner. If our machines begin to become better than our bodies, well, it's only natural to move."

Jadzia looked at me with raised eyebrows. "That's a quote."

I nodded, "Arthur C Clarke. 3001: A Final Odyssey."

Jadzia smiled serenely in amusement, "From another universe, teacher, economist, administrator, and now transhumanist..."

I couldn't help it, I blushed, "I'm just using my head and showing ideas that are obvious to me. Besides, you've probably got more titles in front and behind your name that it'd take a few paragraphs to write it out."

Jadzia shrugged in a 'what can you do' manner, "There is a wonderful expression that Curzon used to berate Academy students with, including one young Benjamin Sisko, 'Think outside the confines of your mind, and speak it even should the sky fall.'"

"I call it 'Thinking outside the box.'"

"You Keiran, are the literal embodiment of that concept, being what you are. You're as 'outside the box' as anything can be. Now I think we should get this idea to Julian for the icky biology parts of it."

My plan to introduce AR and Omnitool to this universe was speed bumped by the fact first that Chief O'Brien was still on his way back from Earth for this practical engineering touch. Jadzia admitted that while she had been an engineer in a past life, which was in the 'past', and no one on DS9 had the Chief's modern mechanical acumen. It also brought home to me to the fact that while Warp Drive was fast, space was still BIG. There was no convenient 'speed of plot' or fanon invented predictable stable subspace corridors, that let you make the sixty seven light year trip from Bajor to Earth in a few days.

The one way trip time was twenty three days to cover that distance. If ships were lucky, like I recalled from the TNG Technical manual, they would encounter favourable interstellar conditions; especially in the subspace domain. This was the equivalent of a jet airliner getting a tailwind and arriving at its destination forty minutes sooner. In this case, the Warp driven ship could perhaps shave off three days (if it was lucky) in travel time. Then again it could go in the opposite direction and it could take the Chief a full month to get back.

It also made me appreciate the luxury of subspace communication. The only reason I could have a real time conversation with Felix on Earth at all was a massive network of com buoys and repeater stations that daisy chained the DS9 subspace signal. Operate off the subspace network and your signal travelled at the rough equivalent of Cochrane Scale Warp 20 using a deep subspace domain that ships or normal matter at least, couldn't reach.

Yet another hurdle that delayed matters was Doctor Bashir's bout with playing host to the consciousness of a mass murdering criminal scientist obsessed with prolonging his life at the expense of others, Rao Vantika. What a stupid asshole. He was a Kobliad, a dying race that needed a rare mineral called deuridium to stabilize their cell structure. They had even found new bountiful deposits in the Gamma Quadrant, but there was nowhere near enough logistics to supply all the billions of kobliad in existence.

Since I was now an official of the Bajoran government (Thanks Opaka) I could come and go in Ops as I pleased, so I plonked myself on an empty seat at the central command briefing table to watch the action unfold.

The circular viewscreen lit up and showed the cargo vessel's bridge that was holding the deuridium. Prominent was the possessed Doctor Bashir and the single mercenary Vantika had hired to help him.

"I'm Benjamin Sisko, Commander of DS Nine."

"_Rao Vantika is my name,"_ his speech and inflection was decidedly different from the Doctor's. _"But I assume you know that already."_

"I want to speak to Doctor Bashir," Sisko demanded.

Vantika smirked, _"Unfortunately, he's not available at the moment."_

"Is he all right?"

"_His body is, how do you humans say it? As fit as a fiddle. Looks rather good on me, don't you think._"

"What have you done to his mind, Vantika?"

"_It was necessary to render him unconscious for the time being. However, I might consider leaving his body and returning him to you. But first you must release your tractor beam."_

Sisko shook his head, "I can't do that."

"_If you don't I'll take this vessel to Warp."_

"The tractor beam would rip your ship apart, you and everyone aboard would be killed."

"Exactly," Vantika glared, "so if you care about the welfare of your doctor, you will release your hold on us. You have one minute to decide."

The screen blanked and became a starfield.

"Can we get a transporter lock on him?"

"Negative," declared Lieutenant Primmin, Odo's Starfleet assigned Security second in command. The guy was a bit of an officious jerk, but at least he had a head on his shoulders and had adapted to the way things worked out here soon enough. "Their shields are up."

"Suggestions?"

Kira spoke up, "A small ship like a runabout could get close enough to overload the shield generators with directed phaser fire. We used to do it to cardassian freighters all the time."

"But you'd be risking a hull breach and with all the deuridium on board," Odo countered reasonably.

"He's right, there are too many lives depending on this shipment, and we can't afford the delay of having to gather the deuridium from space afterward. Dax, is there any way we can disrupt Vantika's control over Bashir?"

"I have an exact model of Vantika's neural energy pattern," she reasoned aloud. "If I can design an electromagnetic pulse to disrupt those patterns, Julian might emerge. We still need a way to get it there?"

"Could we run it along the tractor beam at the same frequency as their shields?"

Dax smiled in realization, "The pulse would resonate off the shields and create a reflected EM field inside the ship."

There was a beeping alert. "He's hailing us," Kira reported.

"I need some time," Jadzia shook her head as her hands began flying across her station.

I was taking a risk but this guy just rubbed me the wrong way, "Commander Sisko, if I can speak, I know a good topic that will push Vantika's buttons and buy all the time Dax needs."

Sisko looked at me in the eyes for a moment and nodded. The viewscreen turned on again.

Vantika looked at us coolly, "Have you decided?"

"If I permit you to leave," Sisko reasoned, "what guarantee do I have that you'll return Doctor Bashir?"

"Oh you're far too ready to capitulate, Commander. Would you be planning a rescue attempt, perhaps?"

I laughed, "Of course we are, Vantika. For someone of your intelligence, it would be insulting to pretend otherwise."

"And who are you?"

"Administrator Swan of Bajor, but that's not relevant at all, what is relevant is that for all your intelligence and being a man of science, I can't believe how blind you are?"

Vantika's eyes flashed. "You dare insult..."

"So much death you inflicted with experiments to prolong your own life, this is the result, jumping your consciousness into others... it's an amazing achievement. Makes me glad Dax has your research. But your mistake was keeping to pure frail and fallible biology and I think you just got addicted to the 'killing' part of your work."

"I did what was necessary, why should others live while nature and fate decreed the kobliad people must wither away, to be dependent on a rare mineral for our lives... our fate held in the palms and whims of any outsider who controls it, you have no idea what that is like..."

"No I don't," I readily agreed. "But that doesn't give you the excuse to kill unique people and minds, least of all your own people, just to save your own ass. Ironically, the consciousness transfer, the very technique you developed so selfishly, can be used for the kobliad people to solve this problem. Their consciousness can be transferred to new genetically engineered stable bodies or kept in storage until another suitable solution is found."

Vantika looked at me like I'd just slammed him over the head with a baseball bat. I looked at Dax and she nodded.

"But this is the end of the line, I'm afraid, Vantika."

Dax tapped a button on her console fiercely and the effect was near immediate. Vantika-Bashir clutched his head in pain. The merc was startled at his console at the unexpected behaviour from his employer. Then Doctor Bashir emerged...

"Doctor!" Sisko shouted.

Bashir blinked and then intelligence returned to his features and he pointed the phaser that 'Vantika' had been holding into the back of the merc. "Drop the shields now, your employer is gone."

The alien merc grimaced, "Not getting paid enough for this."

"Beam the mercenary to holding, and Doctor Bashir to the Ops pad." Sisko ordered and drew a phaser of his own.

The Ops transporter lit up and in flashes and sparkles of dull orange Bashir appeared. He staggered immediately and threw away the phaser. "He's co...mming back..."

Sisko sent a lance of orange energy from his own phaser and the doctor crumpled into unconsciousness.

Bashir was back to ship shape and alone in his own body after Dax reprogrammed a Transporter to isolate the neural pattern of Vantika and 'filter' it out, then shunted the pattern into a memory cube only a centimetre in size with enough data storage for the job. I walked over and picked the thing up; in my hand I was essentially holding a Culture-style Mind-state of a mad scientist. Then Kajada, the kobliad security officer that had been hunting Vantika for decades apparently, arrived in the Infirmary and I hurriedly put down the cube and got out of her way.

"Doctor Bashir, I'm so very sorry for all this," she apologized.

Bashir regarded the cube grimly for a moment, "I suppose I should have listened to you when you said he was still alive."

"There was no way for you to control what he was doing to you."

"I feel quite... humiliated actually."

"No one blames you, Doctor." Sisko insisted.

"It wasn't you, it was that," she pointed to the 'mind-state'.

"What do you intend to do with it?" Jadzia inquired curiously.

"May I assume you returned custody of the prisoner to me, Commander Sisko?" Kajada asked in a formal voice.

"What's left of him."

"Good." She drew her weapon and in a heartbeat the cube was vaporized.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The big screen in my quarters blanked as the communication ended and I leaped from the couch to punch the air in victory, "Yes!" I had just concluded the last bit of business for the day on my list and set the pebble rolling, now it time to see just how big of an avalanche would result. I had brainstormed many ideas for getting the Bajor system on its feet, run them by Major Kira, trimmed and amended it and spent what felt like the whole day on subspace, arguing with what felt like every bajoran official in the system. Really, you'd think those assholes didn't _want_ their system modernized.

Things like reopening mines the cardassians had blasted closed, promoting tourism from the Federation to see various Holy sites once the infrastructure was there to support them, doing PR with the Federation media outlets, promoting bajoran traditional music. Building large vertical hydroponic vertical farms to increase food efficiency for a growing population (I was predicting one hell of a baby boom following the Occupation – the casualties system-wide over the Occupation period was difficult to tabulate or estimate, but my research from captured cardassian documents was shocking enough – the show had never touched the sensitive subject in terms of numbers dead, but... fuck, if I didn't hate the spoonhead Military Junta before, I absolutely loathed them now – and I wasn't even bajoran). This would nicely nip in the bud any talk of fighting over Soil Reclamators coming from the Federation – sure they could restore the land, but no longer was it risking food shortages.

I had even managed to get in touch with Doctor Fallaron, who was the creator of the Exocomps – which were essentially the astromechs of Star Trek – designed to solve the problems of the Particle Fountain project. She was still studying how they had gained sentience and had not made more – but I told her of the needs of Bajor in construction and if perhaps the Exocomps already made wouldn't agree to a new job – since the Particle Fountain was going nowhere slowly at the moment. I had also given her the concept of the Virtual Intelligence – a non-adaptive intelligence that made routine or predictable decisions at extremely high speeds. She had been very intrigued and the Exocomps had even interrupted our conversation and had collectively decided that after reviewing the database they would come to Bajor and help.

Future power generation was also neatly solved by the Colonization package, since with it came a single large capacity Fusion Reactor, but I wanted decentralization in power, so future bajoran homes would have micro-fusion reactors and solar panels for roofs.

I had also managed a huge coup – a legend was coming... the mere thought gave me goosebumps.

"I believe I'll treat myself to some fun."

* * *

Of course my definition of fun was somewhat different than most. In my home universe anyone who wasn't a Spacebattler would think me crazy, in my new home universe it'd be sheer mental incomprehension. Felix hadn't understood why I would want such a program but I was the customer and I am king.

I myself didn't understand why anyone else wouldn't find it awesome. After all what wasn't fun about blasting away with a relatively dinky battle rifle at menacing alien foes armed with plasma rifles and killing them… most of the time.

I hunkered down frantically behind my rather inadequate cover of a car to avoid getting my head and the rest of my torso exploded by sectoid plasma fire. Sure it wouldn't actually kill me but I treated it as life and death, and Felix had done such a good job with the program that the immersion was fantastic. I was currently dressed in XCom early game body armor, in other words, I might as well not even be wearing the stuff for all it helped. I was armed with the Mk14 Enhanced Battle Rifle and feeling distinctly outclassed, sure it downed sectoids and Thin Men neatly, but I couldn't destroy the cover they were using with a single shot.

I shouldered the rifle and popped out; taking a bead on a sectoid that was repositioning itself to flank me on the other side of the highway. The battle rifle spoke hard with the hot-loaded ammo, and I sent three shots downrange. Two exploded in front of the running sectoid, whilst the third tore through its hip and downed it with a splatter of green gore. I didn't even see it, since I was already running my ass off towards fresh cover as two thin men had decided to blast my cover with plasma.

Thankfully, I did have teammates who covered me, but there were only two left from the original five. That and my leaping slide into cover behind a panel van was all that saved me from getting plasma in the face from another sectoid.

"Fuck and this is the easy setting," I was breathing hard and my mouth was dry from adrenaline and exertion.

I moved into a half kneeling position, edged my weapon around cover and managed to nail a Thin Man by shooting through the windows of the car it was using. "Duck lower next time!"

I saw the other remaining team mate finally achieving a kill on the other side of the highway with his SAW. "About time, asshole!"

"Thank you sir," replied the guy, he like all the rest of the team, was a randomized mix of twenty first century nationalities, this one happened to have the classic blonde hair features of old school XCom.

"That wasn't a compliment," I grunted at the slightly moronic NPC and sent tungsten bullets downrange that killed another sectoid in a shower of gore.

Then there was heavy plasma fire that sizzled through the air and practically tore apart the team member on my left flank. "What the fuck?!" Then there was a deep thrumbling rather intimidating roar through the air.

I chanced just edging the left side of my face to get a look and hurriedly retreated. "Felix, there isn't supposed to be Mutons this early!" I complained pointlessly.

"Is this what you do for fun?"

I was so hyper that I whirled around to bring my rifle to bear, but stopped in time to regard a decidedly out of place Jadzia in her blue and black Starfleet uniform, looking curiously around the place. Heavy plasma fire ripped through my last NPC teammate and he died in a shower of flash incinerated gore. She visibly winced at the sight.

I sighed, "Computer, I'm declaring Code Black."

"Affirmative, Commander," the deep, rasping voice of the XCOM Council liaison replied. Sure he wasn't the Tac Officer originally, but his voice was just too cool not to use.

"Pause Program and keep consequences of this mission in memory."

"Affirmative."

I turned to Jadzia and narrowed my eyes at her. "Isn't it rude to intrude into people's holosuite when they're using them... and just how did you get in?"

She smiled sheepishly and at least had the decency to look contrite, "I admit I was curious, call it scientific curiosity on what a person from another universe does in his free time and I'm sure you're intelligent enough to know how I got in."

"Command authorization, since you're 3rd in line," I reasoned.

Her smile told me I had answered correctly, "And as for intruding, I'll take you on a tour of some of my programs in apology."

I liked the sound of that, "You're on, Jadzia."

She smiled knowingly at me but turned more serious, "I also had a more official reason," she admitted. "Tomorrow we're getting our first official visit from a species in the Gamma Quadrant. Commander Sisko wants you there, since you're technically the highest ranking bajoran official on the station now."

"I'll brush up on the First Contact procedures," I nodded.

"Good," she clapped her hands together. "Now where's my gun?"

"You want to try this?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. Dax had seen many lifetimes of shit hitting the fan, and Kurzon Dax had immersed himself in klingon culture. I didn't want to assume anything.

She gave me a look that thoroughly answered me. Damn, she could be scary when she wanted to be.

"Okay, before that I need to explain what we're doing here. You're part of XCOM. An ultra secret military organization, tasked with the goal of protecting Earth from hostile alien invaders that are abducting and performing experiments on the populace..."

* * *

The next day the First Contact with the formal representatives of a civilization in the Gamma Quadrant arrived. They had been originally discovered by a Vulcan survey ship and were known as the Wadi. I remembered the name, but little else significant about them, which was odd if these were the first, that had to be memorable is some way...

So I found myself standing in my most formal outfit in black outside the airlock to Docking Bay Four. (It reminded me a bit of what Section 31 members were seen wearing. Now there was a topic I didn't even want to think about right now.) The rest of DS9's command staff was there in their damnably horrific early TNG era dress uniforms, the ones that looked like primary coloured skirts, Doctor Bashir being the only exception.

"I'm positive I packed my dress uniform, I can't understand it."

"Why didn't you just temporarily replicate one, Doctor?" I raised my left eyebrow at him Vulcan style.

Bashir blinked at me and puffed out a breath, "Yes well, that idea must have slipped my mind in the rush to find the proper one..."

"You look fine, Julian. Relax," advised Jadzia.

"I mean, they are aliens, they won't know our protocol..."

"It'll be fine," Kira took her turn to calm the man down.

Sisko arrived at this point, surveyed us and sharply asked, "Where's your uniform, Doctor?

Bashir was a bit frantic, "I can't seem to find it, sir. I mean I'm certain I packed it."

"Listen to me," said Sisko in a commanding tone. "This is no dress rehearsal, this is the real thing. Our first formal reception for a delegation from the Gamma Quadrant, and I want things to go right from this moment on. Clear?"

Bashir composed himself visibly, "Yes sir."

"Let's do it."

A minute later and the inner circular airlock door rolled aside to admit a group of aliens with elaborate tattoos on their faces. Given budget limitations for a show, a lot of aliens in Star Trek were simply actors with different makeup or styles of rubber foreheads. Well, now it was real, and real life didn't give a crap about budget. The Wadi were shortish stout quadrapeds with more conventional two arms and dressed in elaborate outfits with bright eye catching colours.

The tallest of the Wadi, leading the way, had dark hair and the most elaborate tattoos, took the liberty to introduce himself, "I am Falow, Master Surchid of the Wadi."

"Welcome in the name of Bajor and the United Federation of Planets. I am Commander Benjamin Sisko, this is Administrator Swan of Bajor, and on behalf of my senior officers, Major Kira, Lieutenant Dax, and Doctor Bashir."

"Yes, yes, yes," Falow waved a hand a bit impatiently. "Now where are the games?"

Sisko was taken aback, "Games?"

"We were told you had games..." a wadi female, whispered into Falow's ear. "Quarks. Take us to Quarks."

"Right this way," Kira gestured down the corridor, leading the way for the eager aliens to troop after her.

"First Contact is not what it used to be," Sisko followed in the aliens' wake.

I was too busy pinching the bridge of my nose to really notice. I had finally remembered the wadi and their gaming peculiarity. Oh well, at least I knew what I'd be doing this evening now.

* * *

I didn't go to bed at my usual time that evening. Just doing the work that is the bane of all teachers through time and space – marking tests. Then, there was no transition or bright light; all of a sudden I was just standing in a brightly lit stone corridor with the PADD and electronic pen I had been holding in my hand.

I gave a sigh, "Great."

I put away the PADD and pen in my pockets, put a hand against a wall and began walking the wadi labyrinth not letting go.

I had barely walked a few meters before a door appeared out of nowhere on the right wall, it opened and Falow was there, laughing. "Move alone home, move along home."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I waved him off before the door slammed shut.

I continued my journey and as I had yet to meet anyone I was becoming increasingly worried. Then I met a dead end, but it didn't phase me as I just traced my hand along it and went back the way I had come. I sincerely hoped this was a static maze otherwise I was truly frakked. Then a door opened underneath my hand and beyond was a room.

I walked in carefully and the door closed abruptly with a slam. "Nowhere to go but forward."

Against one wall of the room, seemingly moulded into it, was a stone table. On its surface was four equally spaced stone bowls of narrow diameter set in a square formation, with a tall pitcher of water in the centre. Against the wall above the table were odd alien markings randomly spaced and with no order, rhyme or reason to them.

"Okay, this must be here for a reason," I looked around for anything else. Nothing remarkable except for a single circular shape drawn on the wall to my right. I brushed my hand against it and was surprised to see my fingers sink into the wall and leave behind trails. It was soft, malleable. As pulled my hand away it restored itself.

"You have symbols, and a place where I can draw symbols?"

The key was obviously back at the table. Why four bowls and water? I tried to move the bowls, but they were solid in place. I could pick up the pitcher though, from the weight and volume it probably held about three litres...

The water itself was cool to the touch as if it had just come from a fridge.

Shrugging I poured the water into the bowls until all four were full and waited for any results or effects.

Nothing, besides four narrow bowls of water. I put the pitcher down and thought – staring at the table for a long time, then promptly slapped my forehead. "Stupid, stupid."

The four bowls became mirrors, which if I was standing in front of the table, reflected the alien symbols, four specific alien symbols. Feeling a rush of excitement I studied the four symbols in question for any logical progression to them. I couldn't find anything until... it was so small but there was a fraction of degree increase in size. The most basic progression of anything – a seed was small but grew to a mighty tree, a child to an adult – this was an almost universal concept to anyone living in the Real.

I rushed over to the circle in the wall and drew into it the smallest alien symbol. It flashed violet before resetting itself. I inscribed the next symbol and it flashed purple before vanishing again. The third symbol resulted in green, then the fourth in red.

All four colours flashed again before the wall flashed and a door appeared with Falow behind it.

"First Shap complete. Move along Third Shap for Optional goal achieved."

The door closed but didn't vanish. I approached it and it opened...

I emerged into a corridor just as Sisko was walking past with Kira, Jadzia and Bashir.

"Keiran?"

"Yeah, I'm in here too," I gave them a wave. "And no I'm not part of this wadi holodeck game, though on second thought, I could just be saying that to trick you and I'm actually part of it. But I'm not so..." The four of them just stared at me rather speechless, I coughed uncomfortably. "So did you guys have to solve any puzzles yet? I got a rather good one, but I managed."

"We had to dance exactly like a little wadi girl and sing the rhyme she was singing to get across a room," Jadzia explained. "Not exactly easy, since she's quadraped, we had pair up and essentially dance to mimic it." Her gestures indicated whom had danced with who.

I smirked at Kira and Bashir, "Had fun?"

I swear the two looked so uncomfortable and awkward at the question I almost burst out laughing. "Is that it so far?"

Jadzia nodded.

"Let's get going then, the sooner we are done with this, the better," Sisko led the way and I fell into step next to Jadzia.

They had been barely moving as a group for a few minutes before a door closed ahead and another opened to channel us into a room filled with various wadi who was clearly having a party. They were babbling all sorts of alien gibberish that was probably their native language, and laughing at each other while drinking from delicate glasses.

Kira stormed into the centre of the room, picked up a stack of plates and smashed them into the floor. "Why are you doing this to us? What is wrong with you people?"

"Madame this is no laughing matter," Bashir commented to a particularly raucous wadi female that had seized him by the arms for a dance.

A waiter passed offering a tray of drinks. Sisko waved him off, thinking it a trap. "Don't eat or drink anything."

"Maybe it's the wadi's way of nourishment for the players."

Sisko began coughing on the innocent looking gas coming from a vent, that initially seemed like it was there just for mood. "Or maybe it's drugged or poisoned."

Falow entered, joining in the revelry.

Sisko confronted him, "Falow."

"Drink?"

"We're not playing anymore."

"Move along. Move along home."

"You brought us here..."

It was at this point that I began coughing as well, along with Jadzia, Bashir and Kira. The gas was making everything woozy in my head.

Jadzia slumped to the ground, "The smoke...

"Not bothering them..."

Frak this.

I bodily lunged for the waiter and snagged two glasses off the tray, drinking a mouthful of one and instantly felt much better. I hurried over to Jadzia and shoved the glass to her mouth. "Antidote."

She hesitated for a brief moment before drinking. Then I drank another mouthful before handing over the glass to Sisko. Soon enough we were all standing with glasses of our own in hand, drinking.

"How did you know?" Kira asked curiously.

"There was only one difference between us and them, they were drinking, and we weren't. I also doubt the wadi would actually kill us in here if we fail a test or task, even if it seems deadly. If their culture is all about games then they sure as heck wouldn't have lethal ones for the contestants, that's game over permanently, and not fun. Therefore undesirable."

"But you can't be sure of that."

"Yes," I admitted. "I'm applying my own logic to them. Their definition of fun might be us dying in an extremely amusing way, but I doubt it. For all their outward joviality – this is their version of a diplomatic discussion. By seeing us react to all this, they receive a rather truthful accounting of how we solve problems, how easily we trust, our raw level of intelligence and so on. Talk is cheap, after all."

Falow appeared and said, "Shap Four."

A door on the far side of the room opened and the partygoers and Falow vanished.

Sisko nodded, "Let's go."

Beyond was a rather more traditional subterranean tunnel labyrinth, lit with fire torches and was rather creepy.

"I sincerely hope there isn't a Minotaur to slay in here," I muttered darkly.

Kira frowned at me, "What?"

"Oh, it's an ancient Earth legend," Bashir explained. "There was a legendary labyrinth built by the famous artificer, Deadalus for King Minos. Its function was to contain the minotaur, a fierce deadly creature that was hybrid between a human and bull. It was eventually killed by the hero Theseus."

"Yeah, but Theseus had a sword, and we only have Tricorders, so let's not tempt Murphy too much shall we?" I glared at the Doctor.

Kira was again baffled, "Murphy?"

Bashir opened his mouth to explain that, but I held a finger up and spat phaser bolts out of my eyes at him. The Doctor laughed nervously, "How about I explain after we get out of this."

Jadzia was looking at me with knowing amusement written all over her features.

"In any event," I took a breath, "We're at the Fourth Shap, which given the progression, is the equivalent of a level, stage or tier. This game consists of many tiers probably, advancing in difficulty until you encounter a problem that you fail on. Basic game theory."

"We could be possibly playing for our lives here, and you're arguing the semantics of games?" Kira inquired incredulously.

"I explained that its highly unlikely the wadi would kill us in this manner! That's after all terrible form in diplomacy, no matter the weirdness and quirks of the civilization."

"Quiet! Listen!" Sisko snapped.

I strained my ears and heard a distinct rumbling and whooshing sound. I also felt the hairs on my body began to stand on end with static.

Jadzia had her Tricorder out, "Intense magnetic field variations. Intense flux patterns. It's coming towards us."

"Find cover," Sisko ordered.

Everyone scampered to hug themselves to the wall, but I happened to be tail end Charlie in reacting. Then there was an odd rumbling swirling of energy moving rapidly through the tunnel, as if it was made of millions of mites of energy swirling in an intricate pattern like a school of fish. It was rather beautiful... there had to be a way out of this, no game had no solution...

Jadzia had said magnetic field...

The swirl of energy was barely two meters behind me as I ran when I reached for the PADD and pen I had...I tried to throw it away but...there was a sizzling noise that tingled through my body.

...then I was in an infinite white void...and Falow was standing across from me.

"Unfortunately, you lost. You are now in waiting for the game to end. Such a pity too, you had the right idea. To cast off all technology would've been to come out unscathed..."

I nodded in understanding, "So are you the real Falow?"

"I am him, but not. The Falow you met is right now in the ferengi's bar, directing the primary Interface for the game. I am a Falow too, a virtual sentient copy of him that interacts with the game players and directs them."

"I would call that a copy of his Mind-State floating about in the cyberspace of the ship."

Falow shrugged, "Different names for the same thing."

"So was I right that this is your version of diplomacy?"

"Correct. It's a pity that your luck fell the way it did, you are a much more fun player than the others. Far too serious they are. Life is serious and dangerous enough."

"They do have a bit of stick up their butt," I agreed.

Falow smiled oddly, "An interesting expression."

There was so much I wanted to ask Falow about the Gamma Quadrant, about the Dominion, but... I just couldn't. There had been no way I could explain should Falow then ask Sisko or the other how I knew in turn and that would frak up everything. It did raise an interesting question, was the wadi free of the Dominion?

The wadi had somehow combined a transporter and replicator with the concept of a holodeck. They were actually manipulating matter/energy in real time to produce a physically real game world, not a photons and forcefields holodeck.

That was like having a transporter run continuously, creating matter as dictated by a computer program - which was an insane amount of power. The current Enterprise-D couldn't do that without channelling all of its output to the task. Then there was also the issue of the spatial dimensions if you were actually creating the 'real' game world. You'd demat the previous tiers of the game, to create more in front, advancing the perspective of the players...

No, there was no tech I'd seen yet that would be above the Dominion...

"Ah, so self-sacrifice," Falow suddenly said. "They'd all die instead of saving only some of themselves."

"'Leave no one behind' is a rather prevailing concept in human literature and deeds of heroism," I nodded. "Though it's mostly among elite soldiers and fostered in Starfleet. Not so sure about civilians. The Vulcan's with their 'Needs of the Many, supersedes the welfare of the few or the one,' they probably got through whatever game you threw at them."

"Indeed they did," Falow nodded. "The game has finished. The players have failed."

The flashing void faded abruptly and I was standing in Quarks next to the Jadzia, Sisko, Kira and Bashir.

Quark was standing in front of a large multi-tiered colourful game board that had appeared on the Dabo table, and was crowing in relief, "They made it! I won! I had full confidence in you, Commander. There wasn't a moment's doubt that you wouldn't prevail in this outrageous..."

The true Falow, shook his head, "No, Quark. I'm afraid all your players were lost."

"So we really never were in any danger?" Kira asked.

"It's only a game." Falow inputted some commands into the gameboard, there was a flash, and vanished into a small decorated box – and promptly made my head explode in a metaphorical sense.

"Time to move along home."

"Not so fast," Sisko objected. "This may have been a game to you, but we take first contact with a new species very seriously..."

"Excuse me, Falow," I hurriedly interrupted with an apologetic look at Sisko. "Before you do, I don't want you go with the impression that Dabo is the theme of every game we have. It's but a trifle gambling game."

"Really?" Falow was considerably intrigued.

"Really," I smiled, "Quark! Get my holoprogram album. Bring me the one called, 'Myst,'"

"Mr Swan..." Sisko began to object.

"Commander Sisko, the wadi are communicating in games," I said with a face that said 'Shut up!'. "Is Dabo what you want us to..."

The light of realization entered the Commander's eyes. "Oh, of course not, are you sure..."

"Oh, Falow will love Myst," I grinned. "Mystery, puzzles, family, love, betrayal, all wrapped in an adventure!"

I had wanted to play Myst for real on the holodeck myself first, but it was a small sacrifice for continuing relations with the wadi. They could prove to be an intel goldmine on the Gamma Quadrant, and the fact that they had freaking dimensional storage tech for their games.

I'd drown them with games from my home universe if it would let that tech be traded to either Bajor or the Federation.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

I glanced around the shiny, blinky interior of the forward control section of the Federation Runabout Ganges. The layout was familiar, two forward seats with viewports and control boards, then aft stations that also had seats behind them along the hull. Central Transporter alcove and Replicator integrated into one of the bulkheads. There was a door behind this that led into a larger rear compartment that held sleeping bunks and could hold a lot of storage and/or mission related modules and gear.

I took a seat at one of the port aft station, whilst Chief O'Brien to the opposite, whilst Jadzia and Sisko took the helm controls. I reached down to the edges of the seat and felt around, then felt the backrest.

I looked up from my explorations to see everyone staring at me in bemusement. Jadzia smirked, "Something wrong with the seat, Keiran?"

"Just looking for something."

They turned back to their stations to begin pre-flight checks.

"Ganges to Ops, pre-flight complete. Request clearance for course to Bajor."

"_Clearance granted, Ganges."_ The voice of Major Kira announced over the com.

One thing about living in space that quickly got to you, especially as a noob, was that you only _saw_ something happening, never feel or hear it. I saw the sudden light that grew from the outer doors opening above us. I saw the ship being raised on the elevator, until it came to a stop and it was fully exposed to the void. It finally made me appreciate how large DS9 actually was. It was one thing to know in my mind that its diameter was one point five kilometres, circumference of four point seven on the outer ring, and three kilometres on the inner ring, with the central core being four hundred meters in height. Those were just stats, seeing it with mark 1 eyeball – whole different story. To put things in perspective the Gerald Ford Class Aircraft Carrier, the state of the art supercarrier that America had been building before I ended up here was just about three hundred meters in length, and that was working at the bottom of a grav well.

The Runabout lifted off from the station and was free to navigate. A docking pylon flashed past as we accelerated and just like that we were in open space.

Sisko's fingers tapped on his station, "Course laid in. Ready to engage Impulse."

"Confirmed."

"Engaging impulse, full. Inertial Compensators to maximum. Acceleration initiating. Turnover in two hours thirty minutes. Bajor standard orbit in five hours."

The Star trek writers fail interstellar navigation and physics forever. This was more like Honor Harrington Verse. You had inertial compensators, but in real space, Newton was still a badass. Physics didn't just vanish with an Impulse Drive, which was basically an extremely efficient fusion rocket augmented by a 'slow warp' effect – which also served to scoop and channel that plasma back into the process, making a partially closed system. It wasn't perfect, plasma was still lost, but slowly, and eventually the Impulse Drive would have to be refuelled. Aiding efficiency was the bussard collectors which also collected hydrogen particulates from space to be used in the process.

We could go to Warp as well, which would make the journey to Bajor even faster, but that was generally only done in emergencies or time sensitive missions. This was neither, since we were just going to rendezvous with another ship to pick up a new rather important inhabitant for DS9 and in the future, for Bajor itself.

I smirked as an idea hit me, and another potentially vital future problem was solved, "Chief, I'm afraid I can't authorize that any Bajoran VIP use a Runabout."

O'Brien turned to me with a flabbergasted look, "What?"

"It's unsafe," I shrugged.

"How can a Runabout be unsafe? There are numerous systems that are triple backed up, and rated for extreme interstellar conditions that would destroy other..."

"There are no seatbelts."

O'Brien blinked at me in sheer confusion; it was the funniest expression I'd ever seen on the man's face. "If there was a catastrophic hull breach at any time, you would be sucked out of your seat and into space to die a horrible death. If there were sudden decelerations that exceeded the tolerance of the inertial compensators, you'd be flung out of your seat and end up crushing your skull against the bulkhead or viewport. If the ship was struck by weapons, even with shields, the energies are too much to stop completely, there's bleedthrough and lateral impact waves transferred through the hull would translate into you, and fling you out of your seat. In fact, I feel rather vulnerable sitting here in my clothes, I think I'll research some vacuum suits that you can move around in easily for whenever I travel. Put a microreplicator on the collar, a pressure sensor, and the computer can materialize a helmet over my head faster than you can even think. 'Oh shit.'"

"Chief, you can consider Administrator Swan's suggestions an order," Jadzia said firmly and stared at Sisko.

"Now, old man..."

"Benjamin, you're talking to someone with the memories of a previous host who died in shuttle accident. Curzon is the reason there hasn't been similar deaths on Trill since then, when all Trill ships and shuttles were fitted with seat restraints and independent micro-dampeners. He tried with Starfleet as well but didn't succeed, because after all he was a diplomat not a yarddog, what would he know about starship construction and what was needed on starships."

Sisko sighed, "I thought I was the Commander here..."

Jadzia smiled, "You are, but you're not telling me in your work at Utopia Planitia..." she trailed off meaningfully. I knew she was implying Sisko's time building a true warship to fight the Borg. "And you know its ideas that will save lives... favour to me, please..."

Sisko visibly relented and asked. "Chief?"

O'Brien was frowning in thought, "It's not that complicated of an install or concept, perhaps if we make the restraints automated and malleable, it'll work with the push of a button, add the micro-dampeners, and rechargeable energy cells so they'd be independent of main power. It'd work."

"How long?"

"Oh, with my schedule – a week for installing it on all the Runabouts."

"Get on it, Chief. Log it as maintenance and if anyone in Starfleet asks we can cite its local regulations." Sisko looked at me pointedly.

"Which I'll just write up now," I pulled out a PADD and got to work.

* * *

The Runabout decelerated and inserted into Bajor orbit right on schedule, but we were already late for the arrival of the ship we were to meet. It was a beautiful sight and it was amazing to think that as much as it was a floating lab, diplomatic ship and a living Federation community, that any belligerent race such as the Klingons, Romulans and Cardassians didn't dare take it on unless they had superior numbers on their side and even then it was still an iffy proposition at best. That was what the true Galaxy Class was. I looked with a twinge of grim sadness at the ship, as its name was the _USS Odyssey_. The first ship to fall to the Dominion.

It was carrying the Colonization package and was already busy shuttling and beaming down all the equipment and modules in question, where it would be installed by the Starfleet Core of Engineers. A detachment of them were also on board and would remain here for the three months it would take to assemble everything. The Odyssey would remain for that duration to provide security and support during the construction work.

"Ganges to Odyssey. We are standing by and are ready to receive."

O'Brien was at the small pedestal that controlled the Transporter, warming the device up with an experienced hand.

"Roger that, Ganges. Stand by... energizing."

A cascade of blue sparkles fell into the Transporter alcove, it gained brightness and substance, until a stocky middle aged man materialized, wearing black pants, boots and a white long-sleeved shirt and a beige coat with multitudes of pockets.

Commander Sisko was the picture of composure but I saw the stars of eagerness in his eyes, whilst O'Brien looked like he was a moment away from asking for an autograph.

Montgomery Scott, former Chief Engineer of Kirk's two Enterprise's, stood with an air of complete casualness and confidence of a man who's seen a lot. Though he had the face of James Doohan, the body was not overweight, or out of shape at all - a testament to the state of medicine and healthcare in the Federation. You were only overweight if you chose to be. Humans could generally look forward to a hundred and thirty years of quality life in this day and age, barring illness and sudden accidental death. Scotty was only so relatively 'young' because he had spent the last seventy years in a transporter buffer, to save his own life in the wrecked _USS Jenolan_, which had crashed on the outer surface of a Dyson Sphere that it had accidentally discovered.

"Captain Scott, Commander Benjamin Sisko," the two men shook hands.

"Pleasure ter meet ya, laddie. But I'm resigned from Starfleet so no need fer formalities."

"You'll have to forgive us if we happen to forget from time to time," Sisko laughed. "These are my crew, Lieutenant Jadzia Dax."

Scott being ever the gentleman kissed her hand, "Pleasure lassie."

"Senior Chief Miles O'Brien."

"Aye, you're the man whose job it is to get me up to speed in this day and age, hope you're up to the challenge."

"I'll try my best, sir."

Scotty sighed but let the salutation go, and then he spotted me. "And here's the lad who gave me the opportunity."

"Pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Scotty," I shook hands with him.

"And you lad, thanks for the challenge, it's not everyday you're asked to bootstrap an entire civilization's shipbuilding almost from scratch."

"Indeed," I smiled widely. "So let's get underway and show you your new home."

* * *

I woke up and coughed blearily. Urgh, anaesthesia was just as bad in the 24th Century. My mouth was feeling like a desert and I felt in general like shit all over. I turned in my infirmary bed and spotted a very thoughtfully provided glass of water and downed it in a few gulps.

"That thirsty feeling should go away after a few hours," Bashir said in an entirely too cheerful manner.

"I take it everything went well?"

"Indeed, you now have implanted com device and miniaturized tricorder, and here..." he produced a small case. "Is a supply of OLED contact lenses attuned to the implants encoded frequency. Chief and Mr Scott said the... what was it you called it?"

"Omnitool, essentially a replicator you wear," I replied.

"Fascinating," Bashir nodded. "Yes, there are some problems that cropped up, they're still working on it."

"Oh well," I shrugged. "I take it you want me to wait before I activate the implants and lenses?"

"Yes, you need to remain at least a day for observation, you can activate them after that, and then I want daily checkups for a week after that. Then weekly checkups. As much as the implants are designed not to cause your body to react negatively to them, we can't be a hundred percent sure."

"I'll be here right on time, Doc. I'm not one to really gripe about medical orders."

"That'll be a first," Bashir smiled wryly.

* * *

"Headshot!" I shouted as a Thin Man's head exploded in meaty gory fragments. It was nice having the equivalent of 'Terminator Vision'. My targeting analysis program was actually just the physics calculator rendered with Augemented Reality. I minor feat of reprogramming and I had a nice predictive reticule that showed me where my bullets would land and their paths. Of course, I was still the meaty fleshy target I always was, with only human reflexes, so I was still 'killed', just not as often, as my alien sectoid opponents died when they were in my sights. It was only really extreme situations that could throw off my aim.

I drew a bead on another sectoid that was repositioning but before I could pull the trigger, everything vanished and I was left standing in the brown-green room lined with holo projectors on the walls.

The time displayed in my vision showed that something had gone wrong.

"Damnit Quark, what the hell is the big idea?" I stormed out of the holosuite and saw Quark approaching looking rather harried.

"The uh, Holosuite is urgently needed for confidential Ferengi affairs..."

"The first ancient rule of _hew-mon_ business Quark... Customer is King! Even should the Grand Nagus himself show up, you don't screw over your customers. It leads to bad rep, which leads to reduced business as your former customer goes to your competitors. In other words reduced _profit_. And I can't believe I'm saying this to a ferengi – this should be common knowledge to your people."

"Really now?" a snarky, screechy voice declared beyond Quark.

My eyes widened as I saw a hunchbacked old ferengi with huge lobes appear from behind Quark with the... staff of the Grand Nagus clutched in his hand. Of course I knew there had been another ferengi there and the bodyguard around the corner, but the identities of them was something that would take cross-referencing with a database and I just wasn't that paranoid without cause.

I sighed, "And I just have to say that when the big cheese ferengi himself arrived..."

"Who is this human, Quark?"

"Oh, he's no one to concern you with, Nagus."

"You wound me, Quark," I drawled sarcastically. I bowed my head, "Grand Nagus Zek, an honour to meet you. I am Administrator Swan of Bajor. Welcome to bajoran space, since your visit is clearly unofficial, I will respect that privacy. However, should there be any ferengi business in the Gamma Quadrant that goes... _awry_, the first place an offended civilization will look to is _here_. Should Bajor suffer loss of property or God forbid, lives, as a result then I will make it my firm goal as an _honest businessman_ and economist to make the Ferengi Alliance, _very sorry_ indeed."

Ï suddenly smiled, "Now that that is over with, feel free to make use of the holosuite. You're after all making use of this station, so that is already money in Bajor's coffers, you're a customer and customer is King."

I bowed to the Grand Nagus who was looked at me shrewdly and with a slight smile. "Thank you, Administrator for your hospitality."

"You're welcome."

* * *

I walked into class and glared at the assembled students who fell quiet after a few moments.

"Good morning, everyone."

"Morning Mr Swan," the class chorused.

"You'll all notice something a little different about class, can anyone tell me what it is?" I paused waiting for an answer, when none came. "Look down."

"Our desks are thicker," Jake eventually said.

"Exactly, and this is why... Computer activate Education Program A1-A." The class gasped as holograms of the planet Bajor appeared above each of the student's desk. "Have any of you ever wanted to hold a world in the palm of your hand?" I walked over to the nearest desk and grasped the holographic Bajor, then spun it and twisted it. I pulled apart my hands and it zoomed in to become a cross section 3D terrain map of one of Bajor's continents. "We're going to study some geography today, but first I'm going to teach you how to use this new holographic GUI."

* * *

The first clue I had that all was not right in the affairs of the ferengi was when Nog stopped coming to classes. I excused it the first day and the second, but the third was where I drew the line. I walked to Quarks to find the boy's father, the bumbling Rom. Unbelievably the bar was closed with a ferengi sign that essentially translated to 'We're busy, go away.'

I tapped my left pinky on my palm, one of the cue's my implants had to display a GUI into my AR. I know I looked weird to the outside observer, seemingly typing on thin air, but the results were obvious when the station computer accepted my access codes and the door parted.

Only for me to nearly stampeded by a bunch of rather angry ferengi. Thankfully I didn't seem to be the target of their rage and they were just as surprised that the door opened and there was a human in their path. It didn't matter, their combined mass was too much and I rather painfully encountered the floor, instinctively curling into a ball. The ferengi thankfully split up and moved around me, letting me get up and straightened out my suit. I walked in to find the rather comical sight of Quark holding the Grand Nagus staff and looking like Zek had bashed him over the head with it.

Zek himself was looking resignedly amused and talking to his tall hupyrian bodyguard and servant.

"Congratulations are in order it seems, Grand Nagus," I bowed to Quark. "Can anyone please direct me to Rom?"

Some intelligence returned to Quark's features, "Why?"

"That is between me and Rom." I pulled out two strips of latinum and threw it at him, he caught it with deftness. "Now where is he, Grand Nagus?"

"Eh, he's in the storeroom," Zek shrugged.

"Rom!"

"Yes, Grand Nagus," Rom waddled into the room.

"Mr Rom, a word if you please."

I guided him outside the bar, "Now, Mr Rom, what is the deal with Nog not coming to school?"

"The Grand Nagus uh, disapproved when he found out that Nog was in a school given by..." Rom trailed off, fidgeting nervously and not meeting my eyes.

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression you are Nog's father... or is the former Nagus Zek his father..."

Rom suddenly puffed with indignation, "Of course I'm Nog's father..."

"If the Federation President or CIC Starfleet told Commander Sisko to pull his child out of my school, he would tell them to take a flying leap out the airlock. Does the Nagus choose where ferengi children comes and goes? Does he have that legal right?"

"No."

"Do you understand that your son can barely read or compose? The most basic of skills that any sentient has in the galaxy."

"He'll learn just like I did..."

"Oh, by muddling along no doubt, I wonder if I gave you a ferengi spelling test, how you'd fare? But that's irrelevant. I'll repeat what I said to my students; _knowledge is power_. The power to open whole new vistas of the mind and _opportunities_ you could hardly imagine. Ferengi rule of acquisition number nine, opportunity plus instinct equals profit. But how can you even recognize opportunity if you're too ignorant to see it. That's what school's for."

Rom looked at me with a rather stupefied expression; I seem to cause this look a lot in people.

"So, I expect Nog to be in class tomorrow. If he's not, then I'll have to see about reviewing the validity of Quark's exclusive gambling licencse. After all it does date back to the cardassian Occupation... and doesn't really extend to the bajoran government, now does it?"

"You're blackmailing us?"

"Yes, so I trust you'll do right thing for everyone, keep yourself in a job, a student in my class, and a young man's education and future is more assured."

I glared at Rom expectantly.

"Fine."

"Excellent. Have a good day, and convey my good wishes to the new Grand Nagus. He'll need it."

* * *

"Good, now re-align that wee circuit marked AE4 with the phase coupler."

I nodded and did as Scotty instructed.

"Congratulations laddie, you've just built your first subspace radio."

I tapped the 'On' button and the device lit up, beeping continuously. I looked at the blocky device with a sense of surreality and slight awe. I had from scratch built a device that used another dimension to send a radio signal at FTL speeds. Sure it was bulky and component sophistication was relatively laughable, purposefully so that children could hold, learn and interact with larger versions of the components that are normally miniaturized to the point of being a com badge.

"So how's your own training going?"

"It'll be a while, laddie. I have to unlearn a quite a few things, and that's a lot harder than what you have to do."

"Oh yeah, now that you mention it, I was going through some old Starfleet Academy syllabi and research, ran across an interesting paper you wrote, Transwarp beaming."

Scotty laughed ruefully, "Now there's an interesting story behind that, almost torpedoed my career right out of the Academy. I tried my theory of sending a transporter beam through subspace onto a ship at warp, and I was so confident that I eh, caught Admiral Archer's prized beagle to test it out."

"That has the writings of a disaster," I shook my head.

"Indeed, laddie. The beagle vanished, never rematerialized. I'll nevar forget the chewin' out I got."

I nodded, "I can only imagine. Something struck me as I was looking over that stuff. Now the equations are way over my head, but I was reading the abstract – have you thought of the fact that it's not the ship that is moving at warp, but rather space itself that is moving around the ship."

Scotty looked at me, no, he was looking through me and probably seeing all sorts of mathematical warp wizardry. "Blast," he slapped his hand against my worktable in angry frustration, "of course. No wonder it wouldn't work..."

"And do you think you could make it work now?"

"No, but you've solved a hurdle, lad. Now I have to go back and look over all the math again, perhaps I can rope in that trill lassie into helping."

"Between the two of you I'm sure something can come of it."

* * *

The Ferengi situation on DS9 resolved itself with no interference from me. Zek's abdication to Quark, faking his death, the assassination attempts on Quark by the Nagus' son, all a test to see if he was ready for taking the position of Grand Nagus. Needless to say, he failed the test. Say one thing for the ferengi, some of their 'rules' made quite a bit of sense – you don't grab power, you accumulate it quietly without anyone noticing.

It held a certain appeal; I had to admit, becoming the Illusive Man of this universe, minus the indoctrination and human first attitude. Nah, the Federation already had a whole ultra black-ops agency doing that sort of stuff. I didn't need to burden myself with that as well.

After all this success I'd been having lately, I couldn't help but feel an odd sense of foreboding. As much as I was bringing about change, I had to remember the Chaos Effect, sooner or later something was going to happen that I just couldn't plan for or even imagine.

There was an expression I remembered reading in a Christian book that always stuck with me; we make plans and God laughs at us.

Kai Opaka came unannounced to DS9 and my world changed...


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

* * *

I stood from the seat behind my desk in school and stretched wearily, despite all the technology available, preparing lessons was still an intellectual challenge and time consuming. Once that was done though, the actual time spent on preparing a presentation was over in a jiffy. Say what you will, but having a voice interface and a 'smart' computer in the style of Star Trek was a blessing, it was way beyond having Powerpoint, and with the addition of interactive holograms – man, I wish I had classes like my own students were having. It seemed like the blackboard and chalk was back in the Stone Age, in comparison.

At that point my com implant chimed into my ear canal, (I was the only one that could hear it, a rather obvious tactical security measure). A purposeful twitch of my ear opened the channel.

"Keiran here."

"_Mr Swan," Sisko said, "I thought you'd like to know that Kai Opaka has arrived on DS9."_

My heart rate sped up – Opaka coming to the wormhole and going to the Gamma Quadrant – it was a highly significant event, a near lynchpin one.

"Where is she now?"

"_Visiting the temple on the Promenade."_

"Thank you for telling me. I'll be right there. Keiran out."

I saved my work and locked up the school, moving to circle the Promenade to where the bajoran temple was. I was also occasionally greeted by a parent of my students in passing. DS9 was big, but the amount of families living on it was small enough that I could put a name and face to each. I had also made a few friends in the process with the bajoran parents of my students.

I saw Sisko and Bashir standing outside the temple entrance and joined them. "Hey, did she say why she was here?"

"No," Sisko sighed. "Not in so many words, just taking me up on my offer of a tour of the station."

I shook my head; it was just a convenient excuse of course. Opaka and Kira emerged from the temple at this point. I bowed my head.

"Eminence."

"Administrator Swan," Opaka smiled. "I'm glad to see you again."

"So am I, Eminence."

"Please join me."

She led the way to the upper Prominade, stopping at a viewport that had the most perfect view of the wormhole when it was active. Her face looked serene as ever, but there was something in her eyes that told me all I needed to know.

I walked forward and stood respectfully at her side, "Why are you here, Eminence?"

"Contemplating prophecy."

"Prophecy is very hard to make sense of; they aren't understood usually until after the fact."

"It sounds as though you have experience in this."

"Not personally, but there is enough literature and our own examples of ancient prophecy on Earth. Cassandra, doomed to predict events and have no one believe her. The Oracles at Delphi. Things usually end very badly for all those involved."

Opaka nodded, "It's unfortunate that the Celestial Temple can only be viewed when a ship is passing through."

"It's a spectacular sight," Sisko agreed, "there are no ships due today."

Opaka turned to him with a serenely knowing smile, "A shame."

Sisko got the hint and tapped his combadge. "Sisko to O'Brien."

"_Go ahead Commander.'"_

"Prepare the Yangtzee Kiang for launch, Chief. Kira and I are taking the Kai through the wormhole."

"_Right away, sir."_

"Thank you," Opaka nodded.

"I don't want to keep you from your duties, Doctor."

"It's a slow day," Bashir agreed.

I cleared my throat meaningfully, "You are not taking the _spiritual leader of bajor _to the other side of the galaxy without me, Commander. She needs more than just Major Kira as a bodyguard."

"Oh and can you be a proper bodyguard?" Kira asked sarcastically.

"Sure, put your own body between your principal and any danger, preferably shooting the danger before it can hurt you."

"Enough, we are wasting time," Sisko ordered, "There should be no danger, Mr Swan, you can come."

"Thank you."

* * *

I had my 'emergency' duffle bag with me when I entered the airlock to the Yangtzee Kiang, and dressed in the most rugged clothing I had; jeans, combat boots, and a black reinforced long sleeve shirt with the words 'One at sufficient velocity,' printed on it.

"Is the ship ready, Chief?" Sisko asked.

"All prepped and ready for departure, Commander. Ma'am."

"And the new safety systems?" I inquired.

"All tested and ready, Administrator."

"After you," Sisko gestured for Opaka to precede him into the Runabout. Doctor Bashir and Kira entered next, but he stopped me. "What's in the bag?"

"It's my JIC bag, it stands for Just in Case. It has some of the new rifles Scotty is designing for the Bajoran militia and body armor, food rations, water purifier and so on."

Sisko chuckled. "A JIC bag. I'll have to remember that one."

I entered the Runabout and took a seat on the port side. Opaka was starboard opposite me, with Kira and Sisko at the controls. Bashir had to contend with the fold out seat at the transporter alcove.

The launch sequence was completed and soon the Yangtzee Kiang was accelerating across the few hundred kilometres that separated DS9 from the mouth of the wormhole.

Sisko turned around in his seat to address Opaka, "We'll be entering the wormhole in about a minute."

"Thank you again for indulging me," Opaka nodded.

"Not at all, Opaka," Kira said enthusiastically, "you honour us with your presence."

"Yangtzee Kiang to DS9. Estimated time of return, sixteen hundred hours."

"_Logged in. We'll expect you then,"_ replied Jadzia from Ops.

Kira as co-pilot tapped sequences into her console, "Flight stabilization at maximum."

"Here we go."

The wormhole blossomed into existence, swallowing up the tiny Runabout like we had just flew into the maw of a giant space creature. The interior was like a tunnel of swirling cyan blue gas and glowing energy fields. The runabout was being jostled somewhat, but it was no worse than being in a car on a bumpy road. The patterns I was seeing were eye-watering, amazing and beautiful all at the same time.

Thirty seconds of this passed and then we were suddenly amongst a completely different star field than what I was used to seeing.

Amazing. Stupendous. I had to pinch myself to check if I wasn't dreaming.

Bashir smiled, "Spectacular, isn't it?"

"More than I imagined," Opaka breathed in awe.

"There's Idran, the closest system. It's a trinary star."

"A doorway to the unknown," Opaka said enigmatically.

"The other side of the galaxy, to be precise," Sisko explained. "The Gamma Quadrant is seventy thousand light years from Bajor. It would take our fastest starship sixty seven years to get here."

"I'm glad I could get the chance to see it."

"You'll be seeing what this wormhole is worth to Bajor in a few years."

"If that is to by my fate, Commander."

Kira spoke up, "Should I reverse course?"

Opaka raised her eyebrows, "So soon?"

Sisko shrugged his shoulders', "There's not much else to show you yet."

"Prophecy can be vague, Commander. That's why we must test it."

I wanted to scream at the three way juggling act I was being forced to perform here. I didn't want to antagonize Opaka, I didn't want to stop these events entirely since who knew what ripple effects discovering the prison planet will have – desirable or undesirable, but there was one thing that I was determined to change, Opaka would not die on that hell world if I had anything to do and say about it. My heart rate was also rather high – knowing I was going to be in another crash, was doing nothing to help my stress and anxiety.

"I don't understand, Opaka."

She sighed folding her hands on her lap and leaned backward, "You may return."

"Take us back to the wormhole, Major," Sisko ordered.

"Coming about."

The computer began blaring an alert the instant the runabout had decelerated and reversed course.

"Sensors are picking up a narrow band subspace signal," Kira reported after shutting off the alert. "Odd, it's a long stream of statistical data followed by a request for a reply. I'm not reading any response."

"Launch a Class Two probe; we'll follow it up later," Sisko ordered.

Opaka almost looked disappointed, "You're not going to investigate?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Because of my presence?"

"There's no telling me what it may be," Kira objected.

"Please, Commander. I don't get out often."

"Opaka, you are Kai," I sighed. "There should be a squadron of Interceptors with us going forward. This is the unknown. Your safety..."

"Administrator, I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, but the Prophets are guiding me on this path... if they contacted you and told you to do something, would you not do it?"

I wanted to scream at how she so successfully disarmed me.

Sisko seemed to somewhat relent at hearing that, "Can you get a fix on the source, Major?"

"Point three five light years, bearing two two nine mark four one."

"I guess we'd better take a look. Send a message buoy through the wormhole informing them of our situation."

* * *

It took three hours to reach the coordinates at Warp six. The view outside was slightly underwhelming when compared to the wormhole, warp speed wasn't 'stars' or space dust flashing past, but rather a twisted shifting mass of blue light, if I were to walk to the aft section of the runabout and look out backwards, I would see phase shifted red light. It was rather like Mass Effect FTL in that way. The novelty was gone quickly and rapidly became boring, so I contented myself with my studies from a PADD, all the while quietly fuming at the Prophets.

The runabout came out of warp and was soon approaching a small brown planet.

"This is definitely the origin of the signal, but it's not coming from the surface," Kira explained.

Sisko brought up a tactical diagram of the planet, "Theré it is. A network of artificial satellites, one of which is malfunctioning with an unstable orbit. I think the signals we picked up, is from a system trying to repair it."

"Commander, sensors indicate lifeforms localized in twelve square kilometres on the surface, they may be humanoid," Bashir reported.

"Can you verify that?"

"I can't resolve the biopatterns, there's too much interference."

"Take us in a little closer."

There was an alarm tone.

Kira's hands began tapping rapidly, "We're being scanned by one of the satellites. I don't like this. It's heading towards us!"

"Shields up!"

The ready lights in the Runabout began flashing red and five point crash harnesses emerged from the edges of our seats to smartly mould around us in the blink of an eye and secure themselves.

"Reading an energy build up in the satellite. It's massive... its firing!"

It felt like a giant had slapped the Runabout. My body was flung against the restraints but they held me secure.

"Shields are down! Forward thrusters are gone. We're losing power!"

The Runabout's lights began flickering. My eyes closed and fear seemed to wrap iron bands around my mind as secure as the restraints around my body.

"Attempting to compensate with secondary boosters."

"Impulse engines are failing."

"Ejecting anti-matter pod."

"We're going down! Check contingency fuel cell output."

"Holding at sixty five percent. Stabilizing attitude control response."

"Pitching up to twenty degrees." The Runabout began rocking and shuddering.

"Hull temperature at nine hundred C, nine fifty, eleven hundred!"

"We're holding entry profile."

"Twelve hundred C. Thirteen."

"Pitching up sixty degrees, preparing for final breaking manoeuvres."

"Brace for impact!"

There was an almighty crash, my breath exploded out of me and all my extremities was pulled forward... darkness fell.

* * *

"Keiran! Wake up! Mr Swan!"

I gasped and sat up instinctively. The crash harness had been retracted from me by Bashir who was standing over me in the tilted and damaged Runabout, which was lying on its starboard side. All that could be seen through the front windows was solid earth. The fore consoles were shattered and deformed. Pain shot through my body and a glance under my shirt showed bruise lines in the pattern of the harness. I became hyperaware, everything seemed too real and yet un-real. Bashir helped me to my feet and I barely remembered to grab my JIC bag as I went.

The heavy weight of the bag made me struggle with the climb, but I strained, persevered and climbed out onto the hull. The area around the crash site was rocky and the flat area of ground we had crashed into was amazingly small. That was some impressive piloting skill.

The Kai and Kira were seated a dozen meters away cataloguing supplies. I rushed over to them. "Eminence, are you all right?"

"Yes, Administrator, just a number of bruises from the crash harness. I'm told you are the one who thought of them."

"Yes, but thanks should really go to the Chief, he is the one who made it a reality." I dropped my bag and zipped it open. I pulled out the black body armor that Scotty and I had designed for the bajoran militia (a name I was campaigning hard to change to the Bajoran Defense Force and instituting a larger Marine type military organization), it was only the abdomen, chest and back pieces as I couldn't fit in the whole body suit. The armour itself was an ablative alloy that would be considered a 'superalloy' back in my own reality. It would stop a phaser or disruptor set on vaporize (you'd need medical attention in hurry though), but would resist more power conservative 'kill' shots handily for a few shots and essentially made you functionally immune to stun shots if it wasn't aimed at your head.

Contrary to what was shown on Star Trek, it was not unique. Every major military force in the Alpha Quadrant had conformal bodysuit armour for its ground forces, Starfleet was no exception. Starfleet Security were the only ones who really used them though, as it was required that the wearer have to be physically fit to wear them. It was also a case of the body armor limiting your movements, you were not as agile with it, especially in the confines of a starship. Hence the reason why the armor wasn't as favoured as it should be. The oddest thing was the fact that no one had gone one step further to Powered Armour – which would negate a lot of the mobility impediments. Heck, there was no practical reason why I couldn't build an 'Iron Man' suit.

I shook off those happy thoughts and pulled out a rifle that I designed from memory and the Federation archives, the ergonomics of the late 20th Century HK G36, mixed with the internals of a modern 24th Century Bajoran phaser and metallurgy, which could fire semi, 3 shot burst bolts or full beams.

"Are those...?" Kira asked curiously.

"Say hello to the E69 Phaser rifle and Defender body armor. The Militia is just short of banging on Scotty's door to get these adopted." I reached into the duffle bag and handed over the second E69 I had with me to her. She stood and hefted it into her shoulder as I explained the functions.

"It's heavy."

"Relatively yes, there is a good reason for that. This thing is extremely rugged, with extra cooling and the weapon can now be an effective blunt force club for close quarters combat, there is also attachment rails for adding an underslung close quarter weapon, like a plasma torch, cutting laser or conventional bayonet blade."

Kira looked suitably impressed, "Wish I had one of these during the Occupation."

"I can imagine."

"Company," Sisko hissed intently, his own hand phaser out.

Ï spotted the shadowy figures approaching from the rocks, and put myself between them and Opaka, going to a half-prone firing position and bringing my weapon to bear. Kira also had her rifle up in an instant.

An alien tongue shouted harshly down at us and the UT resolved the words after a few seconds, "You're surrounded. Drop your weapons."

I sighed, "Crap."

* * *

On the bright side I still had my body armor, and the aliens on this planet couldn't use the E69 – as it was biometrically encoded to only be usable by bajorans and humans. That would change in the future, if the Federation decided to adopt the weapon, then it would be hardcoded to the specific owner. Anyone unauthorized trying to fire it would get a nasty shock for their trouble as a first warning, trying again would set a sixty second self-destruct.

Thankfully, the aliens only handled our weapons and didn't try to fire them. Again, the aliens while humanoid were not part of the rubber forehead crowd, they had no noses, odd glowing puplish eyes, reverse jointed legs, and leathery beige skin. We were escorted into a cave and met there someone of obvious importance – given the elaborate body armor that _he _wore (it was hard to tell apart sex of these aliens), but battle and age had taken its toll. The alien himself had also seen better days, with scar tissue telling a grim story of war on his skin.

"Our first visitors," said the alien, "you're not all the same race."

"We're bajoran," Kira pointed to herself and Opaka.

"I'm Commander Benjamin Sisko, Major Kira Nerys, Kai Opaka, Administrator Swan, and Doctor Julian Bashir."

"A Doctor? How ironic," the alien shivered, "I'm Golin Shel-la, leader of the Ennis. Why are you here?"

"We were attacked by one of your satellites, our ship was damaged and we crashed," Sisko explained.

"Of course, Commander. But why did you come here?"

"We were exploring. We've recently discovered permanent wormhole linking our quadrant of the galaxy with yours. I command a space station on the mouth of that wormhole."

"You know nothing of our home planet. You know nothing of the punishment."

"We're just beginning to explore this sector. As I said, our home is on the other side of the galaxy."

"Well you're unlucky then, for you've stumbled into a war."

"Who are you fighting?"

"A brutal enemy that attacks at a whim, we maintain a constant vigil." Golin held up Sisko's phaser and my E69. "These are nadion energy weapons."

"Yes," Sisko confirmed.

"The Ennis stopped using nadion weapons centuries ago, not damaging enough. Your arrival complicates matters."

"We don't plan to be here long."

"Oh, you expect to repair your ship?"

"No, but a rescue team is undoubtedly already on their way."

"Like you, they'll have to deal with the defence net, and that is beyond my influence."

Sisko raised both eyebrows in astonishment, "You don't control the satellites?"

"We're all prisoners on this planet."

"Then this is a penal colony."

Golin waved off the subject, "My immediate concern regards your partisanship. By your presence here you'll be considered our allies. All your lives are in danger." He pointed to one side of the cave where a group of injured Ennis were lying on the ground, moaning in pain. "The latest victims of our enemy, the Nol-Ennis."

"Where are your doctors?"

"We have none."

"You have no medical personnel? How do you survive without it?"

"The homeworld authorities orbital drop supplies to us periodically. But resources are still scarce, since you're here, I was hoping we'd be of some help to each other."

Sisko visibly considered this for a moment before saying, "Doctor Bashir will give you any assistance he can, but understand, we can't take sides in your battle."

Golin trilled in an alien form of what was probably laughter, "It doesn't matter what I understand if the Nol capture you." He walked off but I followed him.

"Just a friendly warning, the rifles will be useless to you, they're keyed to only be usable by our kind."

Golin blinked his eyes at me and threw the E69 at an underling, who shouldered the weapon and pulled the trigger without missing a beat. The ennis jerked as a high voltage discharge shot through his body and he collapsed bonelessly to the floor, twitching and squealing in pain. I sighed and picked up the dropped weapon. The Ennis trained their weapons on me, but I kept the barrel firmly pointed down.

"Nice trick," Golin grunted.

My ears were promptly deafened by an explosion.

My memories of the next minute were flashes at best, as if I wasn't really in control. I had heard it called many names, 'hyperfunction,' 'in the zone.' Science would say the adrenaline release and extreme emotion brought if forward.

I was rolling into cover.

My rifle came to bear.

A pull of the trigger felling a target.

Blasts of angry white light seeking kill us, sent by aliens identical to the ennis.

Putting myself in cover near the Kai to protect her.

Ennis standing fearlessly in the open, trading shots with the enemy like they were in the ball and musket era.

Ennis getting hit, falling over dead with smoking chests.

I killed my third ennis.

Major Kira grabbed her E69 from Golin who was also lying dead on the ground, joining the fight.

I killed my fifth nol and just like that silence fell, the remaining nol retreating in disorder.

I fell to the floor and threw up. Even though my head was telling me that they would all soon be alive – it didn't help.

Kira helped me to my feet, her eyes knowing, understanding and not condemning.

"Idiot," I cursed myself, didn't I have a tricorder installed in me for just this reason. I activated my AR HUD program and could see the lifesigns of the retreating nol. I walked over to one of the dead nol and picked up the rifle they had used. It was very familiar... how the hell? This was a Jem'Hadar Polaron Auto Rifle! I engaged a full scan...

It wasn't long until the 'miracle' occurred, and the formerly deceased ennis and nol began waking up. The latter being allowed to run away the instant they woke up. I scanned the bodies as Doctor Bashir was doing his thing.

"The tricorder indicates a bio-mechanical presence at a cellular level."

"Nanotechnology?" Sisko asked.

"Yes. It seems to be directly controlling their metabolic processes. If the Runabout's computer were functional, I might be able to run a full analysis. The nanites have literally brought them back to life, this is huge."

Sisko turned to Golin, "You've died before?"

"Many times, too many to count," Golin said, his eyes dulled.

"Sir, I'd like to return to the Runabout and try to get the computer up and running."

"Doctor, we're in the middle in the war."

"Sir, this could be a breakthrough of unprecedented magnitude," Bashir persisted.

"It's too dangerous."

"I'll see to his protection," Golin offered.

Sisko sighed and nodded in agreement, and Bashir promptly left with two of the newly revived ennis.

"Your Doctor acts as though he's seen a miracle."

"He's not alone."

"If you lived with it, as we have, you'd see it as a curse."

"That makes sense," I said absently. "After all, who'd want to be immortal if you were stuck in this place."

"How long have you been here?" Sisko asked curiously.

"Stopped counting, it might as well be an eternity, it's all part of the punishment. Everything here is designed to prolong our punishment. The homeworld ships us new weapons along with the food, knowing they're just further fuelling our punishment. Some of us believe we're even entertainment, those satellites see everything on the surface..."

"What was your crime? What was so bad that you deserved this?"

"The Ennis and the Nol are ancient enemies. We were two powerful nations on the homeworld. For generation after generation we fought the same war. The other nations tried but were unable to mediate a peace. Finally, they had had enough, and banded together, overwhelmed us, and exiled us here. We were to be an example to the rest of civilization on the merits of 'getting along'."

"How did your fight begin?" Opaka enquired, her serene voice seemed terribly out of place.

"Some say it was water, some say it was land. It's not very relevant now."

"Then what do you hope to gain by continuing?"

"Vengeance. All of us and our families have suffered horribly at the hands of the nol. It's all we have left."

Sisko shook his head, "The nol can probably say the same thing."

"They probably do," Golin conceded.

Kira stepped forward, "Well, if you must fight a war the least you can do is fight it more effectively."

"Major, this is not our war," Sisko objected.

Golin frowned at her curiously, "What do you mean?"

"There were no guards at the entrance when we arrived..."

I stopped her with a raised hand, "Major, these people can't die and have been fighting forever; they probably don't care about strategy or tactics at this point."

"He's correct, Major. We used to defend ourselves better, Major. Safety perimeters, counter-attacks, pre-emptive strikes. And then we realized it was all pointless. When you cease to fear death, the rules of war change. You'll understand as the years pass, Major."

Sisko shook his head and spoke intently, "Listen to me, Golin. Our rescue is not going to take years. Days, weeks maybe, but they will find us and then they'll penetrate the defence net and transport us out of here.

"Then you will be luckier than we have been."

"We'd be willing to transport all of you away from here if that's what you want."

Golin's eyes were haunted with shadow as he said, "Away from here? To live one life, to die in peace? To us this is an ancient prayer that's never been answered, Commander. You would do this for us?"

"For both sides, the Ennis and the Nol. After you leave, you can go wherever you want, but end this nightmare. Stop fighting long enough for all of us to get off this planet."

"Zlangco, the leader of the Nol would never agree to a cease-fire."

"Ask him," Sisko insisted.

"You don't know them. All they care about is..."

"What do _you_ care about? If you want to end the suffering of your people, then at least try. Set up a meeting with this Zlangco. Talk about this."

Golin raised his hands, "This is hopeless. But I will talk, if he will."

* * *

It was bed-time for those of us from the Alpha Quadrant, but I struggled to sleep. I nibbled on food from the Starfleet MREs, which actually taste good! I've eaten the 21st Century versions, and those had nothing on this. The foods were synthetic, non-perishable even in the worst of conditions, and tasted like I was eating properly home cooked spaghetti bolognaise. In my bouts of sleeplessness I would fiddle with the Jem'Hadar rifle, aiming down its sights and reviewing the scans of the thing in my AR. I wouldn't be able to keep the rifle, but I really had to show the scans to Scotty and O'Brien and see what they made of it.

After hours of on and off catnaps I had finally grown too frustrated for further sleep and walked over to Opaka who was now awake again. She had had no problems falling into a solid uninterrupted five hours of sleep, it somehow didn't surprise me. She was looking around at the ennis and her surroundings with an expression on her face that I didn't like at all.

I sat down next to her, putting my E69 within quick reach.

"Administrator."

"Eminence," I looked at her knowingly, "You do know that there is nothing to be done here, for them."

"You can't know that, Keiran."

"I do, more so than most anyone can say, Eminence. I came from a nation within my home universe that also had two bitter enemies at each other's throats. It wasn't an outright civil war, but it was almost like the Cardassian Occupation. There was a powerful side, small in number, in control of the military, and an oppressed majority. Both sides were forced to live apart, the government kept everyone in the dark and censored media very carefully. There were forced relocations, state-sponsored murder of political opponents, massacres and the whole gamut of sorry tragedies that go with such a state of affairs. In the end, it was two men, the leader of the oppressors, and the leader of the oppressed, who came together and brought both their peoples together out of the abyss. The point is, Eminence that change must come from within. The ennis and the nol must decide for themselves. Do they want to remain in the abyss of pain, tragedy, violence and oppression, or do they want to come together and pull themselves out. You can't do it for them; you are an outsider, someone they can't ever truly trust."

"I can see you speak from truth and even experience."

"Eminence, your people need you. _I_ need you. Don't let Prophecy that's been re-translated and even misinterpreted so many times determine your fate. The future is never pre-determined; it's constantly being shaped and formed by our decisions, actions and character."

Opaka looked at me in the eyes and even grabbed my right ear. I stared back unflinchingly. She sighed and let go. "I will think on your words."

I bowed to her before taking my leave and heading over to where Sisko was standing at the mouth of the cave and waiting.

"Commander, I need to ask you a favour."

"What is it?"

"If Opaka refuses to leave when the time comes, beam her up anyway, stun her if you have to."

"What? Why..."

"Bajoran prophecy, inspired by the Orbs of Prophets, has given her the idea that she's meant to remain here to help these people."

Sisko's visage was grim, "If she does, it could undo what little unity remains among the bajorans."

"So I can count on your support if..."

"Yes, consider it done, Mr Swan."

A shadow appeared in the mouth of the cave and revealed itself to be Golin.

"I'm surprised. Zlangco has agreed to listen to your proposals."

"Good. When?"

"Right away. We'll meet at a neutral site near your vessel. We've both agreed to carry no firearms."

"This'll be a trap," I pointed out.

"We've taken the appropriate precautions, Administrator, but if you personally would care to check the security, I'm sure your Commander will allow you to accompany us." Golin looked me up and down, "You fought rather well for a bureaucrat."

"The combat arts are a hobby of mine," I shrugged.

"Very well, let's go."

* * *

The journey back to the runabout took about twenty minutes on foot and I couldn't help but feel very naked without my rifle. I wasn't entirely defenceless as I had a tiny cricket phaser stuffed in my left boot and a combat knife strapped to my right thigh, also hidden under my bulky pants. Sisko and I took the opportunity to visit Doctor Bashir to see how he was faring with his analysis. The area had been lit by flaming torches set up by the ennis, casting everything in a very medieval glow.

Sisko called out loudly, "Any progress, Doctor?"

Bashir popped his head out of the hatch, deftly climbed up and jumped off the hull. "Yes, sir. I've got the computer up, more or less. It's processing the data now. I can already confirm that it's indeed nanites that are saturating the air of this planet. They are in us as well, but are inactive and dormant for some reason. I should have a complete analysis from the computer in a few minutes." He pointed to the gathering of ennis. "What's going on?"

"Talks about a cease fire," Sisko explained.

Bashir's eyebrows rose in astonishment, "No kidding. How'd you arrange that?"

"I told them that we'd transport them off this planet."

"Isn't that a bit like assisting a jailbreak?"

Sisko narrowed his eyes and his voice was cutting, "I don't need you to interpret the prime directive for me, Doctor."

Bashir stammered, "Yes, of course. I only meant..."

"Whatever crimes they've committed they've paid for a hundred times over. They've been altered and left here. Their homeworld is actively encouraging the slaughter. I believe the Federation would recognise them as separate and unique."

"Assuming the ennis homewold don't stop you," I said.

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

"Well, I should be checking on that analysis," Bashir said and headed back into the runabout.

Soon we were approached by a group of five nol. Again the leader was easy to make out, as he had the most elaborate armour and always walked in front of the group. I assumed this was Zlangco.

"So, you are the leader of the aliens," Zlangco stopped in front of Sisko and Golin.

"Benjamin Sisko, Commander of a Federation space station."

Zlangco narrowed his glowing eyes in confusion, "Federation?"

Golin sneered, "What does it matter to us, Zlangco?"

"It matters to me," he retorted angrily, and only looked at Sisko again when he was sure Golin wasn't going to speak further.

"The Federation is made up of over a hundred planets that have allied themselves for mutual scientific, cultural and defensive benefits. The mission that my people and I are on is to explore the galaxy." I winced at the rather campy explanation.

Zlangco tittered in a laugh, "Such a noble purpose. There'll be no reward for our release, you know.

Golin closed his eyes, "You are being a fool, as usual."

There was an alien twist in his Zlango's mouth as he smirked, "A fool who always manages to outwit you, Golin, as I have proven over and over again."

"If you care to die once again, then all you need to do is ask."

Sisko put himself between the two steadily advancing aliens. "If you've had enough of this, then make your leaders _stop_ and listen. Your only reason to live is to make each other suffer. If you've had enough of suffering, then _make them stop_. I'm not here to be a mediator, but if you ask for an alternative I'll give you one."

Zlangco gave a measuring stare at Sisko, "We're listening."

"In a matter of days, when our rescue party arrives, I can arrange to transport you and your people off this planet, if both sides can only cooperate until then."

Golin raised his arms parallel to the ground in what was probably a conciliatory gesture, "Zlangco, they will resettle us on different planets."

"If that's what you wish," Sisko said carefully.

Zlangco narrowed his eyes at both Sisko and Golin, "The two of you seem to have discussed this plan in detail."

"Of course. His crew has been with us for a day."

"Explain why you choose to ally yourself with the Ennis."

"We have allied ourselves with no one," Sisko objected.

"Two of your people fought and killed a number of us, one of whom is standing right there," he pointed at me with anger in his eyes.

"We were defending ourselves," the Commander retorted.

"I think you're lying. I don't know the aliens, but I know Golin. I know how his mind works. I promise you this is an ennis trick to lure our entire population out of hiding so they can be slaughtered."

I shook my head. This was futile, and heading straight along the rails of what I knew would happen. I settled into a relaxed stance and brought my right hand to rest on my hip.

"That's _not true_."

Zlangco laughed again and gestured to Golin, "Then the ennis are surely willing to make the first gesture of peace. Let them bring all of their people out of hiding first to prove their honourable intention."

Golin was spitting mad now. "Do you think I would allow a single nol escape this planet alive?"

"No more than I would let an ennis go free!"

Out of seemingly nowhere the nol pulled short blades that they had strapped and hidden in the armour on their backs. The ennis did the same and charged at each other with enraged yells.

I was given no chance to reach for my cricket phaser, and barely managed to pull out my combat knife to fend off a nol that swung his blade at my neck. I couldn't flat out oppose that much momentum, so redirected the blade and ducked under it, this put the nol off balance and allowed me to plunge the knife into his back.

I had to use a bracing foot to get the knife back out and roll sideways to avoid another nol seeking to plunge his blade into me.

The same nol charged at me, seeking to bisect me with a sideways slash.

My knife was in a reverse grip and shielded my forearm to allow me to use it in a solid block.

_Clang!_

My forward momentum had been enough to stop the blade and charge past the nol's defenses, where my palm struck the nol in the face with a powerful snap. I continued my momentum as the nol fell back off balance and tripped him. My blade buried itself in his chest.

The next moment I saw a blur flash past my face, going down and...

There was no pain at first.

My brain struggled to comprehend it...

I couldn't believe my eyes...

I stared at the stump of where my right arm had been... blood squirting out in time with my heartbeat...

"Fuck..." I said faintly and the world tumbled and...


End file.
